Out of the Ashes
by lifeloveinsanity28
Summary: It has always been up to Santana and Noah Lopez to take care of their younger siblings (Quinn, Blaine and Rachel). Their stepfather, Hiram, is abusive and their mother, Shelby is absent. But in one instant that all changes, and the children are sent to live with the aunt they barely know. Anderberry twins, and Santana/Puck/Quinn sibling group. Trigger warnings in the author's note.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, everything is owned by RIB and Glee. Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.**

**Trigger warnings: sexual abuse, abortion, domestic violence, physical abuse of a child, suicide. **

**Please review and let me know what you think. **

Santana Lopez felt like she was always exhausted. She was exhausted in a way that most teenagers weren't, it was an exhaustion that came with age, with the stresses of work, home and children. Teenagers weren't supposed to be so tired all the damn time, but Santana was. Santana was lucky if she was able to go to bed before midnight, her lullaby often consisting of the sounds of her mother, Shelby and stepfather, Hiram shouting and cursing, something so commonplace that Santana has stopped flinching when she hears the sound of a hand meeting flesh or of a body meeting a wall. But tonight, tonight Santana had been lucky, and was able to fall asleep by eleven that evening, which was why when someone started shaking her after what felt like only five minutes of sleep all she could do was groan and swat at whatever it was that was interrupting her sleep.

"Santana, wake up." Eight year old, Rachel Berry whined, shaking her older sister again, dodging Santana's swatting hands.

"Rachel?" Santana questioned when she opened her eyes blinking furiously as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, studying her younger sister's face. She could see the tear tracks on Rachel's face in the moonlight, and knew from the way Rachel was still sniffling slightly that she had been crying recently. Santana was surprised that other than the soft strains of music coming from the headphones that her fourteen year old sister, Quinn had fallen asleep with, the rest of the house was silent and still, "What's wrong?"

"I had a nightmare,"Rachel sniffled, scrubbing at the tears on her cheeks, "And I-I wet the bed."

"Hey, it's okay munchkin," Santana soothed, as Rachel's tears began anew. Santana sat up in bed, stretching lazily as she ran a hand through Rachel's hair in an attempt to calm her.

"Santana," She heard Quinn groan from the other side of the room, "Shut that little troll up." Santana rolled her eyes at Quinn, not even bothering to address her.

"Come on, Rach, let's go get you cleaned up." Santana said, leading Rachel out of the bedroom, smacking Quinn on the back of the head as she did so, slamming the door shut quickly to avoid being hit by the pillow that Quinn launched at her.

"Why does Quinn hate me?" Rachel asked softly as she and Santana entered her bedroom. Santana studied Rachel, once again struck by how small her sister was in her frilly pink nightgown, her hair askew from sleep.

"She doesn't." Santana stated, and Rachel gave Santana such a skeptical look, one that definitely looked ridiculous on her face and had Santana fighting a smile. Rachel's shoulders slumped, her head bowing as she shuffled her feet through the carpet, not able to meet Santana's eyes as she stripped Rachel's sodden sheets from the bed.

"She acts like she does, she is always so mean to me." Rachel grumbled and while Santana found Rachel's behavior endearing, she was also struggling to put Quinn's extremely complex behavior into terms that Rachel would understand. Because Santana knew that Quinn really didn't hate Rachel or any of her siblings, but that she was angry, angry that she felt like she didn't fit, that she was blonde and hazel eyed in a family full of brunettes, and that she was the only sibling who had no idea as to who her father was.

"She doesn't, Rachel, she's just complicated." Santana explained, "Now get some new pajamas and underwear, while I start the bath for you."

"That's okay, I don't really need to take a bath. I would just like to change and go back to bed." Rachel said nervously, chewing at her lip.

"Yes, you do. So hurry up, it's late and I'm tired." Santana said as Rachel just continued to stand there, shifting her weight anxiously and staring at the floor beneath her feet, her eyes narrowing as she studied her little sister, "Rachel, what is going on with you?"

"N-nothing, I can just take a bath in the morning." Rachel said, and Santana sighed as she gathered Rachel's wet laundry in her arms, to exhausted to continue the argument. Rachel watched as Santana left the room, before scrambling to her dresser in an attempt to pull out new pajamas and get them on before Santana came back. She had just gotten her nightshirt over her head when she heard a sharp gasp behind her and quickly yanked her shirt down, before spinning around wide eyed and facing an ashen Santana. She felt tears pooling in her eyes as her heart began to pound in her chest. She was frozen, just staring at Santana, not knowing what to do and not able to come up with words to explain.

"Rachel," Santana started her voice quivering with barely suppressed rage, as she drew in a deep breath through her nose, "Did Hiram do that to you?" Santana was referring to the patchwork of pea green, yellow and purple bruises that covered Rachel's back, and the large red welts that created a lattice work from Rachel's shoulders to her waist, scabbed over in some places where her skin had clearly been broken open.

"You-you're not...he told me.."Rachel stuttered, the words getting caught in her throat as her breath hitched in her chest. Santana rushed forward as soon as she saw how erratic Rachel's breathing was becoming, tears pouring down the little girl's cheeks. Santana attempted to gather Rachel into her arms, to calm her, but Rachel fought against her, her small fists batting ineffectually at Santana's chest. Santana finally relented and Rachel scrabbled backwards until her back was pressed against the wall between her dresser and closet before slumping to the ground, curling her legs into herself, pressing her forehead against her knees as she attempted to get her breathing under control.

"Rachel. Rachel. I need you to breathe, okay?" Santana told Rachel, running her fingers through Rachel's hair in an attempt to soothe her terrified baby sister."I need you to tell me what happened."

"I-I can't," Rachel sobbed, "He-he told me I couldn't tell anyone or it would be worse the next time." Rachel's words were quickly lost to her tears as she allowed Santana to pull her into her arms, Santana rocking Rachel slightly in an attempt to soothe her, Santana's own tears falling onto Rachel's hair, as Rachel clutched at Santana's tank top.

She was so _stupid._ She knew Hiram was a sadistic bastard seeing as she had been on the receiving end of his form of "punishment" more than once since he and her mom, Shelby had married when Santana was eight. But she had always thought Rachel and her twin brother, Blaine were safe with him. He was their father, and he doted on them, had always doted on them. She had _never _suspected that he would hurt either of them. But she had been wrong. Her stomach twisted painfully at the thought of her tiny little sister cowering in fear as Hiram hit her repeatedly with his belt or his hand. She was supposed to protect them, protect all of them, and she hadn't been there, she hadn't even know that this was going on. She had always focused on Quinn, and making sure Quinn was safe and was never alone with Hiram, and had completely overlooked how he could be hurting Rachel.

"How-how long?" Santana asked Rachel once her tears had subsided to occasional hiccups and sniffles.

"I-I don't know," Rachel said shrugging, "It's my fault, he told me to be good, he told me to listen, I just make him so m-mad."

"What? No, no, Rachel. This is not you fault, even if you do make him mad, he shouldn't hurt you," Santana said sternly, pulling back from Rachel slightly, forcing the smaller girl to look up at her. Rachel seemed to accept Santana's answer and nodded, yawning. "Come on, munchkin, let me get you in the bath and then you can come sleep in my bed tonight." Santana got to her feet, guiding Rachel into the en suite bathroom, and helping her into the bathtub.

"You won't tell anyone will you, San?" Rachel asked after a few moments, studying her older sister's face. She could tell by the creases on Santana's forehead, the subtle way she was clenching her jaw every few seconds and drumming her fingers on her thigh that Santana was angry. But her dad had been clear about her not telling anyone, and if she did, not only would she get it but so would whoever she told. So she had made sure not to say anything, and she had sworn Blaine to secrecy, he had agreed because he was terrified of their father.

"No, Rach, I won't tell anyone," Santana reassured the younger girl, even though all she really wanted to do was kill her stepfather and maybe her mother since she had to have been home when Rachel was getting "punished" although with all of the self medicating she did she may have had no idea, "But I need you to tell me if someone is hurting you. I know you think you are protecting me, or Blaine or Quinn or Noah, but that isn't your job." Rachel nodded looking down at her hands as she skimmed them across the surface of the water, "I-I need to ask you something, okay? And I need you to be honest with me, Rach. Has he ever touched you anywhere else, like somewhere you didn't want to be touched?" Rachel's head snapped up immediately, her eyes locking onto Santana's, widening as she took in Santana's question.

"N-n-no. He-he wouldn't, he hasn't." Rachel stammered, shaking her head vehemently. Santana stomach clenched painfully when she realized she was unable to tell whether or not Rachel's vehement denial was because she was upset by Santana's question or because she was lying. Santana was choosing to believe the former, because she didn't want to picture Hiram on top of her tiny baby sister, one hand over her mouth, as the other touched her in a way that no father should ever touch his child, whispering in her ear all the ways in which he would hurt her or her siblings if she ever told anyone what he was doing. "Can I get out now?"

Santana swallowed down the bile that had risen in her throat at her own thoughts, and nodded to Rachel, holding out a towel for her. Rachel turned her back to Santana as she began to towel off and pull on her clean clothes. Santana was unable to pull her gaze away from the mottled bruises and welts on Rachel's back. Santana had no idea how she had missed this, how she hadn't noticed that Hiram had been hurting Rachel, had obviously been hurting Rachel for awhile since under the bruises she could see the shiny white skin pulled tight where the flesh had scarred after the old cuts had healed.

"I'm so sorry." Santana breathed out softly, blinking furiously against the tears that had flooded her eyes.

"It's okay, San," Rachel assured her sister, as Santana shook her head furiously, wanting to scream that it wasn't okay, that she, she should never have allowed this to happen to Rachel, that Rachel being hurt was her fault for not noticing sooner, because she really should have seen what was going on, but she settled for saying nothing, picking Rachel up and carrying her into the room Santana shared with Quinn. She placed Rachel in her bed and laid down next to her, Rachel immediately curling into her side, throwing one of her arms around Santana's waist.

"Night munchkin, love you."Santana murmured, kissing the top of Rachel's head as Rachel murmured the same to Santana, snuggling closer.

_It was late, like really late, the only light in the room coming from the cracks in the blinds where the moonlight was streaming in. Santana opened her eyes blearily peering into the blackness of her bedroom. She didn't know what woke her up but then she felt it, a hand stroking the inside of her thigh. Santana whimpered clamping her thighs shut against the intrusion as she tried to fall back asleep. She felt someone pull her thighs apart and then the stroking continued, one finger brushing her underwear. Santana's eyes flew open as she squirmed uncomfortably, trying to get away from whoever was touching her like that, finding that her hips were being held down, and she couldn't move. She opened her mouth to scream, and a hand clamped down over her mouth. Santana's eyes darted frantically over to the bed where Quinn slept, relief washing over her when she saw that Quinn was still asleep and unaware of the struggle that was going on in Santana's bed._

_ "Don't you dare scream, you little bitch." Santana heard a rough, gravelly voice, Hiram's voice, whisper in her ear, his breath hot as it washed over her face, the pungent aroma of cigarette smoke and alcohol reaching her nostrils causing her to gag and Santana froze, her body stilling in her struggle to get away from Hiram, "If you scream, it will be your little bastard sister who gets it next, do you understand?" Santana whimpered and nodded, hot tears pouring down her cheeks as she squeezed her eyes shut tightly as he pulled his hand away from her mouth. _

_Hiram resumed his movements, his fingers stroking the front of her underwear, his other hand holding her thighs open, his fingers pressing so tightly to her thighs that she was sure there would be bruises. Santana wanted to fight, to strike out at Hiram, to kick him or bite down, but she held as still as possible, allowing him to touch her because she knew if she fought, he would do this to Quinn, and Quinn was only a baby, she was only in fourth grade and Santana had started middle school this year. Santana felt something hard poking against her thigh where Hiram had laid down and pressed against her, his hips moving against her hip in time with his hands moving against her underwear. Santana nearly screamed again when she felt Hiram's hand began touching her underneath her underwear, his fingers rough and bruising, making Santana fear that he had scratched her or cut her in some way. _

_He was grunting in her ear, his hips moving faster as was his hand, and Santana turned her head so she was facing the wall, her breath coming in short panicked gasps as she cried silently trying to control the sobs that wanted to burst forth too afraid of what would happen if she made too much noise. She heard him grunt one final time, his hand stilling as his body stiffened where he was pressed against her hip. "Good girl." He murmured as he pulled his hand from her panties, patting her hip. _

_She squeezed her eyes shut again as she felt her mattress shift as he got up from the bed, the sound of her door opening and closing signifying that he had exited her room. The sobs bubbled up from her chest as he left, her whole body shaking with the force of them. Santana felt her bed shift again and she stilled, sucking in deep breaths to quiet her sobs as she felt small arms wrap around her waist. Santana twisted slightly and met Quinn's wide, frightened hazel eyes, tear tracks glistening on her cheeks in the moonlight. Santana sobbed harder, because she knew Quinn had been awake the whole time, that Quinn had seen what Hiram had done, had listened to what Hiram had grunted in her ear. She felt Quinn's arms wrap tighter around her body, clinging to her._

_ "I-I'm so-so sorry," Santana gasped, "I-I won't let him..he won't..he won't ever do-do that to you." She felt Quinn nod against the back of her neck, as Santana continued to murmur promises and apologizes into the darkness of the room._

Santana awoke with a gasp, a silent scream dying on her lips, her entire body covered in a sheen of sweat as her breath came in short spurts. Her chest felt tight, like she couldn't suck in enough air, her heartbeat pounding in her chest and her ears, her stomach roiling uncomfortably as she pushed Rachel away from her as gently as she could, rushing from her bedroom on shaky legs as she shoved the door to the bathroom open, tensing when the doorknob banged against the wall, before dropping to her knees, pulling her hair to the side and emptying the contents of her stomach. She hadn't had a flashback like that in a long time, at least a year, because Hiram had never really stopped.

He had never stopped coming into her bedroom under the cover of darkness, smelling of stale cigarettes and cheap whiskey, his hands rough and seeking. It had escalated after that first time and she had been only thirteen the first time he had come into her room late at night and pinned her to the bed, before yanking her panties aside and shoving himself inside of her. He had held her arms down and she had bit through her lip in an attempt to suppress her screams. Santana laid her head against the cool rim of the toilet seat, her body trembling as she attempted to push the memories from her mind, her skin crawling as she remembered every touch, every grunt, every whispered word that was panted into her ear. She barely realized that she was scratching at her own skin, wanting to get the memory of him off of her, until she saw the faint red lines appearing on her arms. She was debating on whether or not she wanted to take a shower to cleanse herself of him, when she heard a crash from the floor below her.

Her head swam, black spots erupting across her vision as she pushed herself to her feet, nearly tripping on the carpet as she rushed downstairs. She flipped on the light in the foyer and saw Noah crouched down trying to right the table he had no doubt stumbled into and knocked over. Santana could tell from the way he was swaying, from how unsteady he was on his feet that he had been drinking. She crossed her arms over her chest, as she watched Noah blink blearily under the light that she had just turned on.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me." She hissed as she watched Noah fumble with the table, stalking towards him in frustration at his incompetence.

"Santana!" He exclaimed when he noticed her presence, a smile playing at his lips, his voice too loud and bright for the stillness of the house. Santana could hear the soft sound of snoring coming from the living room off of the foyer, and knew her mom must have passed out in there after her nightly binge. Santana stilled listening for a change in the snoring, some proof that Noah had woken their mother up.

"Could you shut the fuck up?" Santana hissed, shoving at his shoulder as he continued to grin at her, " Where the fuck have you been?"

"Around." Noah said, his speech slurred as he swayed unsteadily, laughing to himself.

"Ugh, just go to bed, Noah and take a fucking shower you stink." Santana bit out, she couldn't fucking deal with him right now, not when he was like this, not when she already had one fucking drunk to deal with almost nightly. She watched as he gave her a half assed salute, a smirk on his face before he trudged up the stairs. Santana just rolled her eyes in response, taking a deep breath as she let the anger leak from her pores. She would never tell him, but she missed him, missed what they used to be. But she couldn't help but hate him a little too, for abandoning her and making her deal with the fucked up mess their home had become on her own.

Santana and Noah were the only biological children of Alejandro and Shelby Lopez. Their parents had been young, barely eighteen when they had met in a shared psychology class at their college. They had fallen in love and had gotten pregnant with Noah by accident when they were barely nineteen years old. They were married by twenty and had had Noah two months after their wedding night. They had conceived Santana only two months after Noah's birth and by twenty-one they were the parents of two children under the age of one. Santana and Noah were only eleven months apart and had been _SantanaandNoah_ for as long as she could remember.

But that had all changed when Noah realized that no matter how badly he wanted to protect his family, he wasn't able to, a hard truth that had been driven home when an attempt to protect himself and his family had ended in a nine month stint in juvenile hall and an arrest record for domestic battery. When he returned he was rarely home, was angry in a way that Santana had never seen him, and when he realized he couldn't fight for his family, he began to get into fights elsewhere, reappearing some nights with black eyes and bloody knuckles, the sickly sweet smell of alcohol on his breath and clinging to his clothing. She never asked Noah where he disappeared to at night, so he would never have the chance to lie because they both had their secrets and she wouldn't ask for his when she would never be ready to tell him hers.

Santana waited until Noah had disappeared around the landing before creeping in the living room. She found Shelby asleep on the sofa, limbs askew, one hand dangling off the edge of the couch, her fingers brushing the carpet where a bottle of rum laid on it's side, dripping onto the carpet. Santana could see a fresh bruise coloring her mother's cheek, the purple and black standing out in stark relief against her pale skin. Santana couldn't help the white hot anger that flooded her veins as she studied her mother's prone form, anger at her mother for her indifference to the way he treated her children, to the way he treated her, and at her mother for retreating into the bottom of bottle rather than protecting her children. Santana unconsciously clenched her fists as she stalked towards the couch, giving her mother a vicious shake in an attempt to rouse her.

Santana remembered how hard she had sobbed and begged her mother to wake up the first few times that she and Noah had found their mother passed out, but that hadn't happened more than once or twice as this sight had become a common occurrence over the years. Santana knew she should just leave her mother to sleep it off, but she had worked so hard to keep the full extent of her mother's addiction from her younger siblings, never wanting them to see their mother for the mess she truly was. When the vicious shake Santana had delivered had not roused her mother into wakefulness, Santana began to slap Shelby's cheeks none too gently and was rewarded when Shelby's eyes shot open, glazed and unfocused as she squinted against the brightness of the light, confusion coloring her face.

"San? What's going on?" Shelby questioned her voice gravelly with sleep and slurred from the effects of the alcohol she had consumed. Santana watched as Shelby attempted to push herself into a sitting position, her limbs heavy and uncoordinated.

"You're wasted, that's what." Santana spat, leaning over to assist Shelby in sitting up, grunting in exertion as she tried to arrange Shelby's uncooperative limbs in away that prevented her from falling over, holding her breath against the cloying smell of alcohol that hung around Shelby, "And you fucking stink, so do you think you could maybe fucking help me just a little bit."

"You know what? Just get the fuck off me. I don't need your damn help." Shelby spat, pushing Santana away from her, causing Santana to stumble back slightly. Santana crossed her arms over her chest and watched with a raised eyebrow as Shelby struggled to pull herself up in a sitting position.

"God, you are fucking mess." Santana said, quickly becoming frustrated with watching Shelby try to push herself into a sitting position and once again reached to help her mother, but was stopped when Shelby's open palm connected solidly with her cheek, causing her head to be whipped to the side violently.

"Who the fuck do you think you are? I am your mother." Shelby scolded Santana, the adrenaline coursing through her system after slapping her daughter allowing her to finally push herself up into a sitting position. Santana clutched at her burning cheek, her eyes narrowing in anger at her mother and in an attempt to control the tears that were stinging them.

"You are not a fucking mother," Santana told Shelby, her voice strained and shaking with barely controlled rage as she fought to keep her emotions in check, "You are a fucking drunk, who lets her husband beat the shit out of her and her children." Santana stormed out of the room then, turning her back on her mother who was struggling to get to her feet, her fists clenched tightly to her body as she stormed upstairs. Santana listened intently from the darkness of the second floor landing as Shelby stumbled up the stairs, tripping over her own feet and the carpet. As angry as Santana was at Shelby, she didn't know how to just turn her back and leave her mom to take care of herself even when Shelby definitely didn't deserve her help or her sympathy.

Santana caught Shelby around her waist as soon as she stepped onto the second floor landing, leading her into her bathroom, plopping her unceremoniously on the closed toilet lid. In the brighter light of the bathroom, Santana saw that in addition to the bruise on her cheek, the thin skin underneath her eye had been broken, most likely by the ring that Hiram wore. Santana busied herself with running a washcloth under warm water, shooting furtive glances at Shelby, who was gripping the toilet seat tightly in an attempt to remain upright.

"Could you stop looking at me like that?" Shelby questioned her voice flat and emotionless sounding surprisingly more sober than she did ten minutes ago, "I can take care of myself you know."

"Shut up. You haven't taken care of yourself in _years_." Santana said scoffing as she passed the washcloth to her mother, turning to lean back against the sink, her arms crossed over her chest as she studied Shelby, studying how Shelby's hair hung limp and lank around her face, how her cheekbones jutted out more than they should and how sunken her eyes had become.

"Yes, Santana, I am aware of what a horrible mother I am." Shelby said her tone bored and flat as she stared at the floor, and Santana felt the rage rising in her once again as her mother appeared to be so unaffected by anything and everything.

"He's hitting Rachel." Santana told her, and it had the desired effect as Shelby's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing as she studied Santana's face for dishonesty.

"You're lying." Shelby accused and Santana just rolled her eyes.

"Why the fuck would I lie about the fact that _your _child's back is covered in bruises and welts?"

"I-I didn't know," Shelby stammered, "I had no idea, San."

"Of fucking course you didn't know! " Santana shouted, and Shelby flinched at the harshness in Santana's tone. Santana clenched her fists, her fingernails digging into the soft flesh of her palm as she fought the urge to punch Shelby or punch a wall, drawing in a deep breath before she continued in a calmer voice, "You never fucking know. You spend your entire life either too drunk or too high to even remember your own damn name. But you are supposed to fucking know, they are _your_ kids. _Yours, _not mine or Noah's, you are supposed to protect them or at least fucking _know_ when someone is hurting them."

"And what about you?" Shelby asked softly, Santana glanced at Shelby quickly, and looked away when she saw the tears brimming in her mother's eyes as she looked up at Santana. This was the first time in years where Santana was actually able to get through to her mother, and Santana couldn't deny the relief that flooded her body at the fact that Shelby was finally listening to her, hearing the things that she was telling her.

"This isn't about me,"Santana murmured, biting down on her lower lip to keep it from quivering, the pain helping her focus on not allowing the tears that were stinging her eyes to fall, "This is about them. They deserve more than this, mom. Rachel is so little, and he is hurting her. You have to do something, _we_ have to do something."

"Santana.."Shelby began, studying the tile beneath her feet, her hair covering her face like a veil.

"No. No. You don't get to do this. You don't get to tell me there is nothing you can do. You're our mom. We need you to be our mom again," Santana realized she was pleading even as she crouched down beside her mom, forcing Shelby to look at her, "We can leave mom. We can. There are agencies, people who can help. We could leave and never look back."

"San." Shelby sighed, cupping Santana's cheek softly, as a tear slid down Santana's cheek. It had been so long since Shelby had actually acted like a mother, but in this moment, Santana could remember the woman her mother used to be, before Hiram, before the alcohol and the depression and the anger. Shelby could see the hope brimming in her daughter's eyes, the vulnerability that she hadn't seen in her oldest daughter's eyes in years. She wanted to assure Santana that they could leave, that they could start over, but she couldn't. She couldn't think about leaving Hiram, not when she wasn't even sure that she knew how to be a mother to her children anymore, not when she knew that he would never let them leave, that he would fight for custody of Rachel and Blaine and he would win, because he was a well respected doctor and she was just a drunk with no job. And she knew what Santana was saying was true that they could leave, that they could find a way to make it work, but Shelby was more terrified at the thought of leaving, than she was of staying because having to deal with Hiram, having to spend hours sometimes covering up bruises was the life that she deserved. She knew that her children deserved more and deserved better but she didn't think that she could be that for them.

"I-we-we-can't." She said, Shelby watching as Santana's walls came back up, as she shrugged Shelby's hand off of her face almost violently, all traces of tears gone in an instant.

"Fuck you," Santana scoffed, anger flashing in her eyes, "If you won't do something, then I fucking will. I swear to you I will take them, I will call DCFS and I won't give a fuck if we are put in foster care, because at least we'll be safe."

"You can't do that Santana. You're sixteen, you can't just decide to take them, they are my children." Shelby told her daughter becoming infuriated when all Santana did was shrug one shoulder lazily in response, her gaze hardening as she locked eyes with her mother.

"Then start acting like it. Until you do, Rachel and Blaine will be with either me or Noah. Don't bother dragging your hungover ass out of bed to drive them to school or to pick them up. If you won't protect them, then I will." Santana stated, before spinning on her heel and storming out of the bathroom, leaving Shelby sitting on the toilet, running a shaking hand through her hair. Shelby knew how single minded Santana could be, how stubborn and hot headed she was, traits she had gotten from her biological father. But she also knew how fiercely protective and loyal her oldest daughter was. Shelby didn't doubt for a second that Santana would make good on her threat and she didn't know what to Hiram would kill her for even entertaining the thought of leaving him, he would definitely kill her if DCFS got involved in their lives. Shelby felt a sob burst from her chest as her head swam partially from the alcohol and partially from the thoughts of her husband hurting her children, their children, and how she didn't even have the strength to get up and leave, to do what she could to protect her children.

As her tears fell, she scoured the cabinets looking for the little orange bottle of pills that would make all of these thoughts stop, that would take her to a place where she wasn't imagining bruises on tiny bodies, or hate smoldering in dark almost black eyes, or disappointment and sadness hanging from every word. She wanted to forget, needed to forget how she had failed them, how she couldn't remember the last time she had had a sober conversation with Quinn or the last time she had hugged Noah or Santana or how implicitly Blaine and Rachel trusted her and Hiram and how they had shattered that trust time and time again with harsh words, even harsher blows and complete disinterest. She nearly let out a small triumphant cry when she found the bottle of pills she had been searching for, dry swallowing two, before stumbling into her bedroom and falling onto her bed, sleep already tugging at her mind.

Santana listened from her bedroom as Shelby sobbed being accompanied by the sound of pill bottles rattling or clattering to the floor, knowing exactly what Shelby was searching for. Santana slid into bed beside Rachel, the small girl turning to her and curling against her body. Santana's own tears had already dried and all she felt was exhausted, too exhausted to even be angry at Shelby's outright refusal to leave. She should have known better, she had worked so hard at only feeling anger or apathy when it came to dealing with her mom, but somewhere between her mom's gentle voice and soft touch, she had forgotten and had allowed hope to fill some of the empty places in her heart, but she knew that Shelby would never leave, had known that before she had even pleaded with her mother to. It hadn't been the first time she had begged her mother to leave Hiram, but after hearing excuse after excuse for why they couldn't leave, she had quit asking and focused instead on figuring out ways to survive. She had thought she had been doing fairly well at keeping her siblings out of harms way until that night and the bruises on Rachel's tiny body. She kissed the top of Rachel's head, pulling the small girl closer to her as she allowed the sounds of her sisters' breathing to pull her into sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, they are the property of RIB and company. Also this is still unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. **

**Trigger Warnings: Allusions to sexual abuse, as well as physical abuse in this chapter. **

**A/N: Wow. I was completely blown away by the follows, favorites and reviews I received. Thank you so much. This story is going to be a slow burn and fair warning, things are going to get worse before they get better. There isn't a lot of action in this chapter, it's more of a set up for the later chapters and some insight into the dynamics between the siblings. i don't know how happy I am this chapter, but I wanted to get something out there so that ithe story can move forward. **

The next morning, Santana woke up well before her alarm clock and as the rise and fall of Quinn and Rachel's voices filtered into her consciousness she realized why she was awake, they were arguing, they were always arguing, even at this ungodly hour, she was so used to it that it had pretty much become white noise and even now her foggy brain only made out the sounds of their voices, and not the actual content of their argument. Santana reached one hand over to where she could vaguely make out Rachel's form, pressed against the wall, clapping her hand over Rachel's mouth, as she used her other hand to pull the pillow out from under her head flinging the pillow in Quinn's direction, smirking as she heard Quinn's indignant squawk.

"Could the two of you _please_ shut up?" Santana groaned, "The sun isn't even up yet, what could you seriously be arguing about?" Santana received no response, not that she expected to, although she could practically hear Quinn rolling her eyes, and Rachel took that opportunity to lick the palm of Santana's hand, causing Santana to yank her hand away, wiping it off on her blanket.

"Ugh, Rachel," Santana groaned, "What the hell?"Both Quinn and Rachel started giggling as Rachel scrambled off the bed before Santana could retaliate, practically diving on top of Quinn, who for once didn't complain, just pulled the girl against her in an attempt to protect her, both girls still unable to contain their laughter. Santana rolled her eyes as she pushed herself into a sitting position, because it figured that the only time that the two of them would shut up and stop arguing was when they were annoying the hell out of her. She reached for the other pillow on her bed, preparing to fling it at her sister, but then she saw it, saw Rachel flinch slightly at her movements, and then wince as Quinn squeezed her a little too tight. And reality came crashing down, because even if it was only for a couple of minutes, she had been able to forget about the previous night and the bruises, the fear and the anger.

But then Rachel flinched, her eyes widening for a split second, Santana able to make out fear in her eyes even in the low light of the room, and Santana had forgotten how even her playful movements could be mistaken for something else, that Hiram's treatment had left more than just a physical imprint on her younger sister. Santana let the pillow drop to the floor in between their beds, as she averted her eyes from her younger sister's, staring at the shapes of the shadows that were playing on the walls.

Quinn's eyebrows knit together in confusion as she observed the shift in the demeanor of her sisters, the air thick with a tension that hadn't been there only moments before. She had felt Rachel flinch and stiffen momentarily, the laughter dying in her throat when Santana had raised the pillow to fling it at them, the smaller girl staying pressed against Quinn, Quinn able to feel her little sister's heartbeat pounding against her side. She had watched Santana's face crumple as the pillow fell from her hands, and even in the darkness of the room she could make out tears in the corner of Santana's eyes, before she had turned to face the wall.

"Rach?" Quinn questioned, deciding that she would get more information from her little sister than she would ever get from Santana. Quinn leaned down to push some of the hair that was cloaking Rachel's face behind her ear, Rachel flinching again when she felt Quinn's soft touch, and Quinn pulled her hand away quickly, not understanding why her little sister was suddenly acting so terrified, after spending at least the first ten minutes of her wakefulness antagonizing Quinn. Quinn wanted to murder Rachel about ninety percent of the time, but that didn't mean that watching Rachel react with such terror to something as non-threatening as Santana throwing a pillow at her wasn't concerning. Quinn turned on the lamp next to her bed, wincing and blinking rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the light. The light seemed to pull Rachel from wherever she had gone to in her head, as she pulled away from Quinn, a blush coloring her cheeks as she slid out of Quinn's bed.

"San, I'm sorry." Rachel mumbled her voice so tiny and apologetic, that Quinn had to strain to even hear her, and Santana just hummed in acknowledgment at Rachel's words, not even turning to look at her. Rachel turned and fled the room then, tears falling down her cheeks once she got into her own room. She hadn't meant to flinch, to make Santana think that she was scared of her, but in the darkness of the room she hadn't seen Santana gearing up to throw a pillow at her but rather Hiram, Hiram raising his hand to her before bringing it down on her cheek. He had only done that once, but Rachel could still feel the stinging pain, the way her teeth had knocked together as her head had been flung violently to the side.

That had been the first time he had ever hit her, and she couldn't really remember why it had happened, maybe she had been whining, or her and Blaine may have been fighting, and he had been apologetic in that moment, falling to his knees in front of her, apologizing, telling her that if she had just listened, if she had just stopped, he wouldn't have had to do that, and that he was so sorry. Rachel had been able to smell the faint aroma of alcohol that clung to his clothes, and his breath as he apologized, pulling her against him, her nose wrinkling at the pungent smell of sweat and alcohol that clung to his clothing, pressing her uninjured cheek to his shirt as she remained stiff in his arms. She had been so shocked that he had hit her that she hadn't even cried, not right away, and she remembered staring at Blaine from her father's arms, seeing the fresh tears on his cheeks wondering if she was supposed to be crying too, and wondering where her mother was, wanting to cry out for her, wanting to know if she had heard what her dad had done. He had released her from his embrace after a few moments, and Blaine had taken her hand, pulling her up the stairs and into his bedroom.

She remembered Blaine pressing a cool washcloth to her cheek, something they had watched both Noah and Santana do for each other countless times on the nights that Blaine and Rachel had hidden with their faces pressed in between the slats on the banister, watching as their dad had berated their older siblings, as he had brought his hands down on their faces, their bodies or anywhere he could reach, one horrible night they had even seen him kick Santana repeatedly in the torso as she lay on the ground. Rachel would often have to press her hand against her mouth in order to prevent herself from screaming, from crying out for her dad to stop, to leave them alone. Sometimes Quinn would catch them hiding in the shadows of the landing, when they were supposed to be hiding on the floor of Quinn and Santana's closet, something that Santana had taught them to do whenever they heard the clinking of glasses, the slurring of words, or their parents' too loud voices, because it was on those nights that Hiram's temper could be incited instantly by something as small as a shoe left in the middle of the floor, or a dirty dish left on the table, or one of her siblings slamming the door too roughly upon arriving home.

She had made Blaine promise then as they sat side by side on Blaine's bed, that he wouldn't tell Santana and Noah that their dad had hit her, because Santana and Noah took the blame for everything that set Hiram off in an attempt to protect them and even as young as Rachel was she wanted to protect them from the knowledge that they couldn't always be there to save them. And when that slap had left a slight discoloration on her cheek, so slight that she couldn't even call it a bruise, and Santana had questioned her about it, she had lied and said that her and Blaine were wrestling and he had accidentally hit her in the face when she had tried to pull away from him. And even though Blaine hadn't wanted to promise not to tell Santana, had begged Rachel to tell them, he had lied to Santana as well even when she scolded him, he had not given in and told the truth. That had been the first time Hiram had hit her, the first time that she had lied to Santana and forced Blaine to do the same, and also the only time Hiram had ever apologized to her.

Rachel sighed as she looked at her bare bed, wanting nothing more than to curl up, and try to forget the pain that flashed in Santana's eyes when Rachel had flinched away from her, or the anger that she saw in her father's eyes seconds before his hand connected with her flesh, because both of those things were playing in her mind on a near constant loop. She wanted to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach that now Quinn also suspected something had happened to Rachel because Hiram had told her repeatedly what would happen if anyone found out and now Santana knew and Blaine and maybe Quinn and she didn't know what her dad would do if he found out that they knew even if she hadn't been the one to tell them. Rachel slid down against the wall in between her bed and the wall, wrapping herself up in her fuzzy pink blanket that she had been carrying around since she was two, grateful that she had knocked it off of the bed the previous evening so that it remained clean, resting her head against the wall as she listened to the sounds of her siblings moving about the house, knowing that she and Blaine didn't need to get ready for awhile yet, her eyes fluttering closed once again.

* * *

Quinn watched Rachel leave the bedroom, her eyes narrowing suspiciously at Rachel's exit, and her apology to Santana. Quinn waited until she heard Rachel's bedroom door close before dragging her gaze to Santana. Santana was still sitting statute still, staring at the wall and Quinn almost thought that she had fallen asleep sitting up.

"S?" Quinn questioned, "What was that?" Santana gave no immediate response, just sighed deeply and tried to hide the fact that she was wiping tears off her face by rubbing her cheek against the soft cotton of her sleep shirt. Concern clouded Quinn's features as she watched Santana struggling to compose herself, because Santana never let anyone see her struggling. "S?"

"What?" Santana snapped, turning to look at Quinn, all traces of tears gone as her eyes flashed dangerously. She saw Quinn's eyes widen, the concern on her face being replaced with an anger of her own, her expression hardening even as Santana deflated, reminding herself that it wasn't Quinn she was mad at, that she was mad at Hiram, that she was mad at herself for scaring Rachel even if she hadn't meant to, "_That_ was nothing, Quinn, okay? Don't worry about it."

"You're a liar," Quinn spat, eyes narrowing, arms crossed over her chest as she glared at Santana, "That wasn't nothing, nothing isn't Rachel practically having a panic attack because you almost hit her with a pillow, nothing isn't you freaking out because Rachel freaked out about you nearly hitting her with a pillow." Santana found herself groaning in frustration because it was way too early to be having this conversation with Quinn, it was too early for all of these conflicting emotions especially since Santana could feel the effects of her lack of sleep.

"I'm serious, Q, what you saw was nothing. Rachel's fine. I'm fine, except now _you're_ giving me a headache." Santana said wearily.

"That's bullshit, Santana!" Quinn all but shouted, her attempts at controlling her tone of voice, causing her words to come out as hiss.

She was so sick of this, sick of Santana and Noah keeping things from her, lying to her in an attempt to protect her, forgetting that she was the one laying in the bed next to Santana's when Hiram came into their room late at night, often pulling Quinn from sleep, causing Quinn to have to listen to Hiram's grunts and Santana's whimpers, forcing herself to stare at the wall, to keep her breathing under control, keep the tears from spilling over, terrified of what would happen if he knew she was awake, the one time that she had rolled over, it was Santana's eyes that she met and she had never been able to forget the shame she saw in Santana's eyes, written across Santana's face, or the way that Santana had frantically mouthed the word "please", a plea to get Quinn to turn away from her, to try and forget what she saw. It was because of this that Quinn went to bed nightly with soft music filtering through the ear buds she had placed in her ears.

"I'm not a little kid, I don't need you to protect me, there is nothing left that you can protect me from." Quinn ignored the hurt that flashed on Santana's face at her last statement, too fueled by anger to care that all Santana had ever tried to do was protect her and Quinn was throwing that in her face, telling her how she had failed at the one thing she had always tried to do, because even though Santana had been able to protect her from bruises and welts, from having Hiram slip into her bed at night, she hadn't been able to protect her from having her innocence stolen in other ways, or from the fear and the helplessness she felt at being kept in the dark about Hiram, or about Shelby, at having to listen to Hiram violating Santana, at allowing Hiram to violate Santana, because even though she knew she should tell someone, had even tried to tell their mom once, but all her mom did was tell her to shut her filthy mouth and that she was lying, and all Santana had done was yell at her, ask her how she could be so stupid and beg her to keep her mouth shut from now on.

"That's not true." Santana murmured her voice shaky as she looked at her hands that she was twisting around each other. Quinn just rolled her eyes as she climbed from her bed not caring that she was making a ridiculous amount of noise as she slammed her dresser drawers open and closed, pulling out her clothes for the day.

"Of course it's true, Santana, or did you forget that I live here too? That I hear things too?" Quinn spat, but felt her anger draining from her as she took in the defeated look on Santana's face,"I could help, Santana, I am not a little kid, I could help you protect them, if you would just tell me what is going on."

Santana looked at Quinn then, the earnestness and conviction causing her to meet Quinn's eyes and even though Quinn was right, and she wasn't a child anymore, and Santana so badly wanted to tell Quinn everything, to let Quinn help her, help them, because Noah was a mess and she was so tired of doing everything on her own, she just couldn't. Because the trust in Quinn's eyes reminded her so much of a much smaller Quinn, arms wrapped around Santana's midsection tightly, tears soaking the material of Santana's shirt where Quinn's face was pressed against her stomach, it had been the first time Hiram had spanked Quinn, one of the only times he had spanked her and she remembered promising Quinn that she would never let Hiram hurt her again, that she would always protect her.

"Quinn, there is nothing going on." Santana repeated, watching as Quinn spun away from her with a muttered "whatever" signifying the end of the conversation, "Just get dressed okay? Coach Sue is going to have our heads if we are late." Quinn didn't respond and Santana knew she was ignoring her, so she left the bedroom to wake Blaine allowing Quinn to continue to seethe, not surprised when she heard the sound of something, a shoe, maybe a book, hit the back of the door after she closed it.

She knew Quinn was more hurt than angry, and she couldn't deny the guilt that she felt because she knew that Quinn felt helpless, and didn't really blame her for feeling that way. Quinn had always felt left out, so obviously different from her siblings, with her blonde hair and hazel eyes and the Lopez last name, given to Quinn by Shelby as a way to prevent Santana and Noah's father from knowing of her infidelity, infidelity that came to light anyways as Quinn grew, her hair turning from jet black at birth to a light brown, and then blonde by her first birthday, her skin remaining multiple shades lighter than both Santana and Noah's, her eyes turning from the strange murky blue of infancy to hazel, it had been the realization of Shelby's infidelity, of her lies that had caused Alejandro to leave. Shelby had never spoken of Quinn's father, had never even told Quinn his name.

It hadn't been until Quinn had started school that she and her siblings had begun to question whether or not they had the same father, and that Shelby had finally told them the truth. If they had never questioned it, they would have figured it out anyways, when Hiram referred to Quinn as Shelby's "little bastard" and had used Quinn's unknown father in the insane theories he had of Shelby cheating on him, made all the more insane by the fact that Shelby could barely get off of the couch most days, either because she was drunk, depressed or in pain or some combination of the three, so she definitely was not leaving the house to cheat on him. As far as Santana could tell the only time she left the house was to pick up or drop off Rachel and Blaine at school, and to drive down the street to the liquor store on the corner.

When Santana walked into Noah and Blaine's room, she was met with the sound of Noah's snores, wondering not for the first time how Blaine managed to sleep through that, and wrinkled her nose at the smell because the boys' room always smelled like sweat and gym socks and the strong cologne that Noah wore way too much of.

"Blaine," Santana whispered, running a hand over Blaine's back and through his tousled curls, "It's time to get up."

"Go 'way." Blaine mumbled, rolling further away from her as he pulled the blanket over his head. Santana bent down, whispering in his ear again, her breathe tickling his ear as he tried to swat at her, Santana chuckling as she dodged his hand, "Santana, leave me alone. It's not even time to get up yet."

"Yes it is, Blaine, you are coming to practice with me and then I am driving you and Rachel to school." Santana said and Blaine pushed himself into a sitting position, rubbing at his eyes.

"Why?" Blaine asked, "Mom always drives us to school, she has too." It was another one of Hiram's ridiculous rules, because all Hiram truly cared about is keeping up appearances, and that meant that Shelby drove them and picked them up from school every day. He had made sure that Blaine and Rachel attended a prestigious private school with quite a few of his colleagues' children and he didn't want them gossiping about his family.

"Well she's sick, so I am taking you to school. Can you get dressed and then go tell Rachel to get dressed?" Blaine shrugged and nodded. She studied Blaine closely, watching for any wincing or flinching, any indication at all that Hiram had been hurting him as well, but she couldn't tell and wasn't exactly ready to hear the answer to her unasked question, not wanting to know how she had yet again failed to protect her siblings. Santana wasn't ready to talk to Rachel yet either, she had only been up for half an hour and she was already drained, and really just wanted to crawl back in bed.

* * *

"Rachel?" Blaine called as he pushed open the door to Rachel's bedroom, wanting to announce that he was coming in just in case she was changing or something, but he didn't even see her when he opened her door, seeing her stripped bed and knowing immediately what had happened. He knew about Rachel's nightmares, had heard her screaming sometimes, when the other three hadn't, had even slept in her room to keep them at bay, "Rach?" He found Rachel curled up on the floor of her room, on the side of her bed that was furthest from the door, wrapped up in her pink blanket, her forehead resting against the wall and her eyes closed. He reached out and shook her slightly, her eyes flying open as she scrambled backwards away from him. "I'm sorry, Rach, I'm sorry, it's just me." He straightened up, backing away from her, not wanting to scare her further.

"I'm okay, Blaine," Rachel reassured him as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, her heartbeat returning to normal, "Why are you dressed for school?"

"Santana said mom is sick, and that she is taking us," Blaine said shrugging, "She told me to come tell you to get dressed."

"Mom's not sick," Rachel said sighing, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, and Blaine sat down cross legged in front of her, "San knows about Daddy, Blaine."

"But that's good, Rach, that San knows, she can help, I think." Blaine said hopefully. He had wanted Rachel to tell Santana or Noah or their mom as soon as Hiram had hit her the first time, and she had begged him not tell, and he had agreed even though he hadn't wanted too, and as it had gotten worse, Blaine had frequently begged her to tell someone, anyone, but she always refused. Blaine couldn't help but feel guilty every time he saw a new bruise on Rachel or cowered as he watched Rachel be punished for things he had done, things she had taken the blame for. Even if Rachel was the older twin, he was supposed to be the one that protected her, because he was the boy, because Santana and Noah had told him that when they weren't around it was up to him to take care of Rachel, but it had always been the other way around, it had always been Rachel protecting him, so he had stayed quiet because he didn't want Santana or Noah to be disappointed in him for letting Rachel get hurt, for being to scared to stand up for her, even when Rachel stood up for him. Blaine had always been the more agreeable of the two of them and Rachel had always been the more outspoken one, and the last thing he wanted was for anyone to be disappointed in him.

"No, Blaine, she can't help, she isn't supposed to know." Rachel told him, "He said he would hurt her, hurt me if I told anyone."

"I-I know that, Rachel, but Santana and Noah won't let him hurt you, you know that." Blaine said trying to convince Rachel, but all she did was shrug, and pick at a loose thread on her blanket. Blaine wasn't used to seeing Rachel so sad, so defeated, she was the strong one, the one who stood up to Hiram, "It'll be okay, Rach, you'll see." Blaine said, hugging her as she nodded, pushing herself up off of the floor. She didn't really believe him, couldn't believe him, because she had tried for so long to believe that everything would be okay, but it had become too hard when things hadn't been okay for a long time.

"Yeah, Blaine, it'll be okay." Rachel said agreeing with Blaine, because he needed her to agree with him, because he still needed to believe that everything would be alright, because she knew that he honestly believed that everything would be okay, "I'm gonna get dressed now, okay?" Blaine nodded, offering Rachel one more smile before leaving her room.

When Santana finished showering and getting dressed, she came downstairs to find Blaine sulking as he dunked his Cheerios into his milk viciously, and Brittany sitting on the counter, two travel mugs of coffee next to her, attempting to engage Blaine in conversation but he was too busy scowling at his bowl to respond.

"Coffee!" Santana exclaimed, as she picked up the second cup of coffee, Brittany giggling at her antics, "Brittany Pierce, you are a goddess, this is amazing. How did you get in here?"

"Blaine let me in." Brittany said, and Santana turned to glare at him.

"I knew it was Britt," Santana just continued to glare as Blaine deflated under her gaze, "I knew it was her when I opened the door. 'M not a baby, I can answer a door." Blaine said defensively, once again stabbing at the Cheerios that floated in his bowl.

Quinn entered the kitchen, scowl painted on her face, as she sat down next to Blaine, ruffling his hair as he swatted at her hand. Brittany could tell that something was off that morning, she had been best friends with Santana for years and she knew her and her siblings well enough to tell when something was different. And she could tell that the interactions between the siblings seemed forced, like they were playing a role. She could see that Quinn was scowling at Santana and refused to look at her, but Quinn and Santana fought all of the time so that itself wouldn't have been concerning but the way that Santana's eyes were full of remorse and something else that Brittany didn't recognize the few times she did try to make eye contact with Quinn was concerning as was the way she gazed off into the distance every so often, her eyes becoming unfocused, the only one of them who seemed unchanged was Blaine, because the sulking and whining was normal for him when he had to be up early and really didn't want to be.

She knew better than to ask Santana about it, to ask if her if everything was okay, because the one time she had broached the subject, Santana had stopped talking to her for a week. So she let Santana have her secrets, and she never asked why Santana couldn't stay the night at her house most of the time, or why Quinn had to hang out at Brittany's on the nights that Santana worked or why on the few occasions where Santana did stay the night, she sometimes woke up screaming. She figured that that was her way of helping, because by not asking, she figured she made things a little bit easier for Santana, because Santana could just be Santana with her, and not have to worry about formulating some lie or half truth about things she didn't want to talk about.

"Britt, can you do me a favor? Can you watch Blaine and Rachel for me while I work tonight?" Santana asked, and Brittany turned to Santana with a quizzical expression, but Santana wasn't looking at her, she was staring at Blaine, who had finally finished mutilating his cereal and was just swirling his spoon in the leftover milk.

"Sure, San, but what about your mom and Hiram?" Brittany asked.

"He's working, and she's sick." Santana said, shrugging. Blaine opened his mouth to protest, probably to remind her once again of one of Hiram's many rules, but Santana just held up a hand to silence him, "Where's Rachel? We're going to be late." Both Blaine and Quinn shrugged in response, and Santana rolled her eyes, running back upstairs to find Rachel shutting the door to their mom's bedroom, a guilty expression on her face when she noticed Santana standing next to her.

"I-I wanted to say bye to her," Rachel stated, and she had wanted to say bye to her mom, and also check to see if Santana was lying about their mom being sick, which from the aroma of alcohol that had been wafting off of Shelby, she knew she was hungover, but Shelby had driven them to school with a hangover before, she had also seen the bruise on Shelby's cheek and had attempted to wake her up but had only received incoherent grunts in response, so she pressed a kiss to her mother's uninjured cheek before leaving the room,"She didn't wake up."

"I told you she wasn't feeling well." Santana reminded her, and Rachel nodded curtly, even though she knew Santana was lying to her, because she knew Shelby had been drinking but that didn't mean she was sick and Rachel knew that Santana was driving them to school because of her, because of what she had seen and because of what Hiram had done, she felt that she could no longer trust Shelby, "I'm sorry about earlier, Rach."

"I know, San, it-it wasn't you, I know you would never hurt me." Rachel said, squeezing Santana's hand as they walked down the stairs. Santana nodding and swallowing around the lump in her throat, once again struck by how unfair it was that _he_ had hurt Rachel so badly that even a playful gesture could be seen as threatening by Rachel, Santana smoothed the tension from her face and the sadness from her the best that she could as she joined the rest of her siblings and Brittany in the kitchen.

She handed Rachel a granola bar and juice box telling her she would have to eat on the way or in the stands as she ushered them out of the house. Quinn was still scowling at her every time their eyes met, and Blaine was still whining about having to go with them, having to be up so early and why couldn't Noah just take him to school, and Santana laughed at that because Noah barely took himself to school, there was no way she would make him responsible for taking Blaine to school. She watched as Rachel walked gingerly in front of her, her gait slow and measured as she took care not jostle her backpack too much, barely able to hide the small winces that graced her features when it did come into contact with the sensitive flesh of her back.

Santana watched as Blaine stopped Rachel, reaching for her backpack and whispering something in her ear. She knew then that Blaine knew about Hiram, about what Hiram had been doing to Rachel, and she wondered why he hadn't told anyone, why he hadn't confided in Santana or Noah, because Blaine was not known for keeping things to himself, which worried her, because what else could they possibly be hiding from her? Santana made a note to talk to him about it later, when she was able to bring her emotions back under control and wouldn't end up frightening Blaine by yelling at him for not telling her what was happening.

They were late to practice so Coach Sue had made them run laps, before berating them for bringing their younger siblings to practice, not wanting to hear Santana's excuses for why she had to bring them. She knew Coach Sue was going to be pissed at her for bringing them, because she had forbidden it the last time, reminding Santana that she was head cheerleader and she couldn't have her head cheerleader distracted during practice by the hobbits. Santana hadn't argued, she was too tired to argue with Sue, so she had just nodded, promising that it wouldn't happen again, even though she knew it would, not really caring how much it pissed Sue off. After practice, she drove Blaine and Rachel halfway across town to their school, getting them there with a few minutes to spare, reminding them that Brittany would pick them up after school and that they would stay with Brittany and Quinn and Brittany's younger sister, Emily that night and she would see them after work.

They both looked at her with wide eyes, and pale faces, even as she tried to reassure them that it would be okay, knowing that they were fearful of how Hiram would react if he found out that they were at Brittany's rather than at home where they were supposed to be. She had barely made it back to McKinley for her first period class, running through the hallways so she wouldn't be tardy, nearly skidding on the slick floor when she got distracted for a split second by the sight of Noah sauntering across the parking lot, shocked that he had even made it to school that day.

Santana had barely made it through school that day, she had fallen asleep in two of her classes and had been sent to the nurse after falling asleep in the second class. She had reassured the nurse and her teacher that she wasn't sick, just that she hadn't gotten enough sleep the night before, and they had thankfully let it go. She hadn't engaged in conversation with the other cheerleaders during lunch, just pushed her salad around her plate, too nauseous from lack of sleep and worry to even eat any of it. She had glanced around the cafeteria hoping to catch a glimpse of Noah, because she wanted to talk to him, needed to try to tell him some of what was going on.

Brittany had watched her with concern throughout the day and although Santana tried to reassure her that she was fine, that she was just tired, she knew Brittany didn't believe her. And Santana knew she wasn't fine, she couldn't get the picture of Rachel's back out of her head or stop replaying the conversation with Shelby over in her mind, wondering what she could have done differently, what she could have said differently to make Shelby understand, to keep Rachel from being hurt. She couldn't stop thinking about how she could confront Blaine, how she could ask Blaine if Hiram had been hurting him, without Blaine falling apart like Rachel had when Santana had seen what Hiram had done to her.

As soon as school let out, she had changed out of her Cheerios uniform into the plain khaki pants and white polo shirt that she was forced to wear to her job at a local diner. She pasted a fake smile on her face as she spoke with the customers, resisted the urge to put her fist in the faces of the ones who talked down to her, dodged unwanted advances from the customers and a few of the busboys who hit on her almost every shift she had, but it had been a good distraction and had kept her busy enough that she didn't have time to think about anything, not about Blaine or Rachel and how they were doing at Brittany's and whether or not Shelby had tried to contact them. Santana had left a note for her on her nightstand before they left for school that morning letting her know where the younger kids would be and what time Santana got off of work. She didn't have time to think about Noah and where he was and whether or not he was being safe because it was Friday night, and she hadn't been able to talk to him school that day although she had meant to and didn't know where he was.

Her shift at the diner was only four hours long and by eight-thirty she was pulling off her apron in the break room and counting her tips. Her shift had been too short for her to even really get a break, so she didn't have a chance to check her phone until she pulled it, her purse and her keys out of her locker. Her stomach sank, her nausea returning when she saw that she had multiple missed calls from Brittany, a couple of texts as well asking her to call as soon as she could, and she just knew something was wrong, because Brittany knew she couldn't answer her phone when she was working and with such a short shift, Brittany knew she wouldn't have a break, so she wouldn't have called unless something happened. Santana felt so stupid for not keeping her phone in her pocket like she usual did, but she didn't think she needed to, because Blaine, Rachel and Quinn were supposed to be safe with Brittany until she got home.

One of her co-workers found her in the break room, frozen in front of her locker, staring at her phone with shaking hands and an ashen face, trying to decide whether she should return Brittany's calls or just find out what was going on when she got to the Pierce's. Brittany's last call had come in at 8:10 which was only twenty minutes ago and it would only take Santana about ten minutes to get to Brittany's house from the diner. She was shaken out of her thoughts when her co-worker placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, asking her if everything was alright, Santana hadn't answered, she had just shoved past him, making a mental note to apologize to him the next time she saw him as she sprinted to her car. Santana's hands were shaking so badly that she fumbled and dropped her keys twice, cursing under her breath, before she was able to get her door unlocked, and the keys in the ignition. She drew in a few deep breaths, willing her heart rate to slow down and her hands to stop shaking, because her getting into an accident because she was driving when upset was going to solve nothing.

It took another five minutes before she finally felt that she was okay to drive, her hands only trembling slightly and heart rate having slowed considerably, repeating to herself that everything was okay like a mantra, not caring that she probably looked insane talking to herself as she pulled out of the parking lot, trying to push aside the fear and panic that were threatening to overwhelm her every time thoughts about what she could possibly find out when she got to Brittany's attempted to creep into her mind, turning the radio on as loud as it could go in an attempt to distract herself as she made her way through Lima and the Pierce home.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she pulled up to the curb in front of the Pierce home and didn't immediately notice anything out of the ordinary, both Mr. and Mrs. Pierce's cars were in the driveway, the porch was bathed in soft yellow light, and she could see the TV flickering in the darkness of the window Santana knew to be the living room. She sat in the car for a few moments trying to regain her composure and knowing that just because everything appeared to be normal, it didn't mean that it was, sending a silent prayer up to a God that she wasn't sure she believed in for everything to be okay, before climbing from her car.

**Sorry, I left it on a cliffhanger, most of the next chapter is written. But anyways let me know what you think.**


	3. Chapter 3, Part A

**As always, I own nothing all characters are the property of Glee, well except Britt's mom. Also unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. **

**Thanks to everyone who has been reading this. This Part 1 of 2, the second part will be up later tonight, as it is almost finished but I wanted to get this out there. This is my longest chapter yet. Trigger warnings: graphic depiction of a violent crime scene, suicide, character death and child abuse in this chapter. **

Santana rubbed her sweaty palms on the front of her khakis as she climbed the stairs to Brittany's front door, rolling her eyes at herself, knowing that she was being ridiculous, and that Brittany calling her a bunch of times didn't have to mean anything, but she still couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Santana hadn't even gotten the chance to knock, before Brittany was pulling the door open, shutting it behind her softly, forcing Santana to back up a few paces until her back was resting against the railing of the porch.

"Britt, what's going?" Santana questioned, squinting in the low light as she studied Brittany's face, not knowing what she was even looking for, because if there was one thing she knew about her best friend, it was that she had an impeccable poker face. Brittany sighed, leaning back against side of the house, so that she and Santana were facing each other.

"San, don't freak out.."Brittany began and Santana scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"You can't start a sentence like that and not expect me to freak out, Britt, and you stalling is _not_ helping." Santana spat, wringing her hands together in front of her as a way to quell her anxiety, as Brittany reached out to still her movements.

"Hiram came and picked up Blaine and Rachel." Brittany told her.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Santana exclaimed, wrenching her hands away from Brittany, running them through her hair as she began to pace the length of the porch, Brittany reaching out once again to try to offer her some sort of touch to comfort her, but Santana spun around to face her, glaring as Brittany shrunk back against the door.

"I'm sorry, San." The softness in Brittany's voice was enough to pause Santana's pacing as she glanced at Brittany, who was staring at the ground, her shoulders slumped.

"Fuck, Britt, I'm not mad at you," Santana said, hands dropping to her sides. She wasn't mad at Brittany, she was angry with herself because she knew better, she knew that she couldn't just change their routine like that without something going wrong, but she had thought Hiram was working that evening, had committed his schedule to memory for years, so she didn't know how she had gotten it wrong this time,"Britt, did he-did he say anything to you?"

"Not really." Brittany said shrugging and saw some of the tension smooth from Santana's features. Hiram hadn't said anything to Brittany, not really, just told her that she shouldn't agree to watch someone's children without their permission, but he hadn't really needed to say anything at all, because even though he wasn't yelling, and was completely calm as he spoke with her parents, before ushering Blaine and Rachel from the house, Brittany could see something smoldering in his eyes, something that had nearly made her beg her parents to let them stay, even though she knew they would never agree with her, and she couldn't give them a reason why other than she had a bad feeling, but it was that something and Quinn's insistence that had had her calling Santana frantically as soon as he left her house three hours ago, "Santana, if something was wrong you would tell me right?"

"Nothing's wrong, Britt, you just know how he is, he's probably going to ground me for like a month for not telling him that I was bringing Blaine and Rachel here." Santana said glancing away from Brittany's concerned face, her excuse sounding lame to her own ears. Because Hiram would punish her, that much she knew but he wasn't going to do it by grounding her, no, her punishment would be much worse, the thought making her stomach flip as she remembered that Blaine and Rachel were with him and that they had also broken his rules, because she made them even when she saw how scared they were, all she had been doing was trying to keep them safe and instead she had made everything worse. "Britt, I have to go, Quinn and I have to go." Santana was frantic then, needing to be home, needing to know that they were okay, because all she could picture was the two of them terrified, screaming as he punished them for _her _decision.

Her mom would most likely be awake and maybe coherent since it was still early, but she knew he would be angry at her as well, had heard him berating her multiple times about how she need to control those damn kids of hers, how she needed to get off the couch and do something dammit. And she knew her mom would sit impassively while he yelled and paced in front of her, her jaw slack and her eyes empty, her lack of reaction only serving to make him even angrier.

"Britt, is Santana here?" The sound of Mrs. Pierce's voice bringing Santana's attention to the front doors as she poked her head out of the house observing the two girls. Anna Pierce had known Santana since the first day of kindergarten when Brittany had come home from school and would not stop talking about the girl. Brittany and Santana had become inseperable after that first day, and Santana was like another daughter to her, which is why she had been so surprised that evening when Hiram Berry had shown up at her house, demanding that Blaine and Rachel come home with him, telling them that Santana did not have permission to allow her siblings to come to their home,and that he would have a talk with her about it later. She had been surprised because Santana had never lied to her, had never put Brittany or her family in a position like they one they had been placed in that afternoon. Anna had been able to do nothing but apologize for the confusion, because Santana was a good kid and from what Brittany had told her she had only asked Brittany to watch the children because Shelby was sick and needed to rest.

She had initially been surprised when Brittany and Quinn had arrived home after school with Blaine and Rachel in tow, but couldn't deny them seeing as Santana was trying to help out her mother. Anna had spent time with Blaine and Rachel in the past, Shelby had asked her to keep them once or twice and they were only a year older than her Emily, but they were infrequent visitors to the Pierce home. Brittany had answered in the affirmative and Anna ushered the girls into the house. Santana made sure that she was looking anywhere but at Mrs. Pierce, not wanting to see the disappointment that would be written on the older woman's face, because she knew she had screwed up this time. Santana could barely quell the anxiousness that was causing her stomach to tie itself in knots, anxiety about the Pierce's being upset with her and about the fact that she and Quinn needed to leave because Rachel and Blaine _couldn't _be home alone with Hiram and Shelby, not after what she found out last night.

"Mrs. Pierce, I am so sorry, I didn't-"Santana started and Anna held up a hand and silenced Santana with a shake of her head.

"Santana, we aren't mad at you. But, what you did was not okay. I know that you were just trying help out your mom, but sweetheart, as a parent it is terrifying when you don't know where your children are even if they are safe. I know you left a note for your mom, but you didn't get her permission to let Brittany watch them. Now we love you and Quinn, and I don't mind allowing Britt to babysit for them, but the next time, I will need to speak with your parents beforehand." Anna told Santana, who had been staring at the ground throughout her speech and ignoring the glare she was receiving from her daughter and the curious looks that Quinn was shooting them from where she sat on the couch in the living room.

"I'm really sorry, Mrs. Pierce," Santana said in a tiny voice, her eyes never leaving the ground, "It won't happen again."

"That's all I ask, hun." Anna said, squeezing Santana's shoulder, as she went into the living room, to shoo Emily to bed. Brittany nudged Santana with her shoulder, as Santana swallowed thickly before glancing up at Brittany.

"You okay?" Brittany whispered, making sure that her mom was distracted by her sister and Santana nodded.

"Yeah, Britt, it's just been a long day and your parents are so awesome, and I just...I should have known better." Santana explained, anxious to leave now that Anna was done lecturing her, motioning for Quinn to hurry up and get her things together. Brittany stayed silent because she didn't know what more to say to Santana, she could feel the tension coming off of her best friend, the way she was almost bouncing on the balls of her feet anxiously as she waited for Quinn.

"You'll call me tomorrow, San?" Brittany asked as Santana pulled Quinn by the hand out of Brittany's house, shouting a yes to Brittany and both girls shouting goodbye to Mrs. Pierce.

"What is your deal? Would you stop yanking me?" Quinn snapped at Santana, pulling her hand out of Santana's so forcefully, that she caused Santana to nearly lose her balance and fall to the ground.

"Just get in the car, Quinn." Santana sighed, because she definitely did not have time to argue with Quinn on Brittany's front lawn. Quinn just rolled her eyes as she got into the passenger seat, throwing her bag in the backseat, and slamming the door with more force than necessary.

"I saw the bruises," Quinn blurted, causing Santana to fumble with the keys in her ignition, swiveling to stare at Quinn, her mouth agape, "That's what you were hiding right? That's what you were hiding this morning."

"Quinn," Santana said wearily, having already tired of Quinn's questions this morning, "How?"

"Her shirt rode up while she was reaching for a glass at Brittany's." Quinn explained, "She doesn't know that I saw them and I don't think anyone else saw either." Santana nodded as she put the car in drive, "What are you gonna do?"

"Do about what?" Santana asked sighing wearily, grateful that Brittany only lived the next street over, her pulse around quickening, thundering in her ears with the anxiety of having to face Hiram, having to find out what was waiting for her at home, because of her stupidity.

"You know about what, Santana. We can't keep doing this, San, we can't just keep letting him do this." Quinn was practically pleading with Santana to understand, to reassure her that they would figure something out, Santana had always been the one to protect them, to take care of them, and Quinn needed Santana to reassure her that she could still do that, because when Quinn had seen the bruises on Rachel that afternoon, she hadn't know what to do. Rachel had turned around and found Quinn standing behind her, pale faced with trembling hands and wide eyes, and when she had questioned Quinn, Quinn had sprinted into Brittany's bathroom, tears spilling down her cheeks, not wanting Rachel to see her crying. She had seen bruises in the past on both Santana and Noah, had held ice packs for them, had sat on the sink once applying make up to a black eye on Santana's face as Santana walked her step by step through the process. But the bruises seemed so out of place on Rachel, she was just so little, and she was his kid. Quinn had always thought Hiram had hated them because they weren't.

Quinn should have noticed something was wrong with Rachel, she really should have. Santana was so busy with work and cheerleading and taking care of them when their mother couldn't and Hiram wasn't home, and Noah was busy getting drunk or high or doing whatever it was that he did so he didn't have to be home, and if Quinn had taken the time to pay attention, she would have noticed that Rachel was quieter lately, more clingy even, but all she noticed was how much more annoying Rachel was, having argued with Rachel more in the last few weeks than she normally did because the little girl could be a pest when she wanted to be, and having the younger girl constantly attached to her side or Santana's when they were home drove Quinn crazy, but she had never thought that the younger girl's behavior because she was afraid, because she was being hurt. If she had been looking for it, she would have noticed that Blaine seemed to hover around Rachel more than usual, as if he was afraid to let her out of his sight, she had often caught the twins' whispering to each other, always stopping as soon as one of their older siblings was in earshot. It had always just caused Quinn to roll her eyes, because she didn't know what secrets eight year old kids could even have that she would want to know, but now she knew and she couldn't help but wish that she had known sooner.

She had barely been able to contain her own panic when Hiram had shown up that afternoon after they had been at Brittany's for barely an hour, her stomach churning, as her chest tightened painfully, concentrating so hard on keeping her breathing even so no one suspected anything was out of place that she had almost missed the momentary fear that flashed in Rachel's eyes, before she was putting on a bright smile, thanking Mrs. Pierce for having them over, as Hiram had set his glare on Quinn, the hair on her arms and her neck prickling under the force of his gaze as she averted her eyes until he had left. It had been Quinn that had told Brittany to call Santana, because now she knew why Santana wanted them at Brittany's that afternoon, and they were leaving with a very angry Hiram, and Rachel had bruises that he had caused in his anger, and Quinn was terrified for her younger siblings.

Quinn had been grateful that Brittany hadn't asked any questions as she called Santana repeatedly at Quinn's frantic request, and hadn't said anything when Quinn had had trouble sitting still the rest of the night, glancing at the window every so often, hoping to see Santana's car. Brittany had tried her hardest to distract Quinn and Quinn forced herself to participate, gratefully to Brittany for even trying but she was unable to pull her thoughts from her younger siblings, praying hard that they were okay.

"What do you want me to do, Quinn?" Santana asked softly, asking Quinn the same question she obsessed over, because she didn't know what she was doing. And what could she do? She was sixteen, she couldn't emancipate herself and get custody of her siblings, and if they told anyone, she knew they would be separated, Quinn, Noah and herself were damaged goods, and she had no doubt that Hiram would allow them to languish in foster care while he fought to regain custody of Rachel and Blaine and if that happened there wouldn't be anyone to protect the youngest children. And who was to say that they would be any safer in foster care? Santana was almost sure that they wouldn't be, because how would they look after each other when they weren't together, at least now they were able to protect each other, and they had each other to rely on.

"We could tell someone, we could tell-" Quinn started and Santana cut her off, because she knew what Quinn was alluding to, knew that Quinn was talking about their aunt. The same aunt they saw every day but never spoke to, hadn't spoken to in years, not since Santana herself was nine.

"No we can't, Quinn." Santana said cutting Quinn off as they pulled in the driveway, and Quinn rolled her eyes in response.

"Why not?" Quinn questioned.

"Just shut up and stop it, Quinn." Santana said softly, unable to focus on having a discussion with Quinn when her stomach was churning nervously, as she saw that Hiram's car was still parked in the driveway, her heartbeat speeding up as she clenched the steering wheel in her hands so tightly that her knuckles turned white, dropping her forehead to rest against it as she tried to bring her breathing under control. She hadn't been this truly terrified in a long time, but then again she had always known what to expect, what the creaking of the door in the middle of the night meant, what mouthing off or being disrespectful or any of the many other ridiculous things that pissed Hiram off at any given moment meant, but he hadn't been hurting Rachel then and she had never so blatantly challenged his control, not when it came to _them_, afraid that if she did it would be them who would suffer the consequences of her actions.

"San," Quinn said softly, placing a gentle hand in the center of Santana's back, genuinely surprised that Santana didn't shrug the gesture off, and Santana rolled her head to the side on the steering wheel to look at her. Quinn was taken aback by the intensity in Santana's gaze, and how frightened she appeared because Santana was never scared, and if she was she certainly never showed it to Quinn or anyone else for that matter, "We should go inside."

Santana sighed and nodded, drawing in a deep breath, steeling her spine and hardening her gaze, refusing to allow any fear to show on her face, not wanting to give Hiram the satisfaction she knew he would get from seeing that he still had power over her, that he could still frighten her. Quinn quelled the urge to reach out and take Santana's hand, not sure if she wanted to do it more to reassure herself or to reassure Santana, as her sister opened the front door.

Santana knew something was wrong, that something was off as soon as she opened the door. The house was quiet, too quiet for the early hour, the only sound was the low murmur of the TV in the den. It wasn't until she flipped on the foyer light that she realized how wrong things were. The table had been overturned, papers strewn across the floor from the drawer that had flown open, glass littering the floor near the door, but it was the dark smears that stood out against the pale wood of the floor, and the dark red splotches that bleed into the bright white of the papers littering the floor, that had her spinning on her heel and shoving Quinn outside roughly, holding tight to her shoulders to keep her in place.

"Santana, what the hell? You're hurting me." Quinn complained, and Santana loosened her grip slightly, but still kept it tight enough that Quinn couldn't maneuver out of it.

"Quinn, I need you to go to Britt's," Santana said evenly, forcing her voice to stay that way, even as it threatened to waver dangerously, adrenaline already coursing through her veins, causing her hands to shake slightly, and her heart to pound, "I _need _you to go to Britt's and call 911 and then I _need_ you to call Noah."

"San? What is going on?" Quinn asked, her voice small and frightened as she tried to break Santana's grasp to see around her and into the house, even though was a couple of inches taller than Santana already, the way Santana was holding her arms prevented her from seeing anything beyond the open door. But she knew Santana was scared, could feel the way her hands trembled where she held onto Quinn, how pale her face was even with her normal olive skin tone, "You're scaring me. Is someone hurt?"

"Yes. I-I don't know. Please, Quinn, just go," Santana pleaded, knowing that her answers didn't make much sense but needing Quinn to leave, even if she had her cellphone and could have just given that to Quinn, but she needed Quinn to not be there because whatever it was that she found, she didn't want Quinn to witness. Quinn nodded, tears shining in her hazel eyes as Santana released her. Santana watching as Quinn's blonde hair and white shoes cut through the blackness of the yard as she took off running in the direction they had just come from before drawing in a deep breath and clenching her fists as she prepared to go back into the house.

* * *

Quinn's lungs burned, her feet aching as they slapped the pavement as she ran to Brittany's, running through her neighbor's backyards, the path she took so familiar that she was moving on instinct her mind racing. She nearly slid on the steps up to Brittany's front door, her heart stuttering as she fought to keep herself upright. She was panting as she pounded on the door frantically, the side of her hand aching as she struck the thick wood repeatedly, not caring about how loud she was being. It was Brittany who threw the door open, Quinn barely able to stop the forward motion of her hand fast enough to keep herself from striking Brittany.

"Quinn?"Brittany questioned, as she took in the way Quinn was panting and gasping for air, her chest heaving, her skin coated in a light sheen of sweat, it was obvious that she had run to Brittany's house. Quinn tried to find the words to ask Brittany for her phone, but her words were being silenced by her need to pull air into her lungs.

"Britt, who is at the door?" She heard Mrs. Pierce say from somewhere inside the house, and then she was there beside Brittany, looking at Quinn with concern, before rushing forward, putting her arm around Quinn's waist pulling the young girl into the house, "Quinn, sweetie, what's wrong?"

"I need to use your phone, I need to call 911." Quinn said her voice flat, almost robotic, shrugging out of Mrs. Pierce's grip as she tried to locate the family's phone.

"Quinn, can you tell us what is going on?"Anna asked once again, as she held out the phone for Quinn, "Is Santana hurt? Are you hurt?" Quinn shook her head frantically, repeating in a more hysterical voice that she needed to call 911. Quinn's hands were shaking so hard that Brittany had to take the phone and dial the number for her. Quinn fought to keep her breathing and voice under control as she spoke to the dispatcher, her head swimming with anxiety and fear as her pulse pounded in her ears, nearly drowning out the sound of the woman's voice.

Quinn was vaguely aware of Brittany holding her hand and Mrs. Pierce smoothing her hair, trying to comfort her but it was too much for her, their touches too overwhelming, making her feel claustrophobic so she pulled away from them in favor of pacing the floor, while the dispatcher continued to ask her questions that she couldn't answer, because she knew nothing, she could tell the woman that someone was hurt, who was in the house and her address, beyond that she couldn't tell her anything, which was terrifying, as every possible scenario of what could be waiting for her in their house ran through her mind.

Brittany watched Quinn pace, her voice growing more hysterical with every question she couldn't answer, tears falling down her cheeks, tears she didn't even think the other girl noticed as she didn't pause, didn't make any move to wipe them away. Brittany's heart had lightened when Quinn had confirmed that Santana was okay, that she wasn't hurt, only to fall into her stomach once again as Quinn spoke into the phone, letting the person on the other side know that someone at her house was hurt and all Brittany could see was that look in Hiram's eyes when he picked up Blaine and Rachel, the look that had terrified her and caused her blood to run cold, remembering just how tiny Blaine and Rachel were and how she would never forgive herself if something had happened to them, because she didn't speak up, knowing now that she should have said something, because they could be hurt and scared and alone and she had just let them leave.

As soon as the dispatcher assured Quinn that help was on the way and the call was disconnected, she dialed Noah's number. Noah answered his phone with a grunted hello, and all the emotions she had fought so hard to contain welled up inside of her, her voice trembling and laced with tears as she breathed his name.

"Quinn?" Noah questioned. He was at Finn's house had come over after school to play video games with his friend, they had been in the middle of a pretty vicious game of capture the flag on Call of Duty, a game which Noah was winning, when his phone had started to ring, breaking his concentration and allowing Finn a headshot, but when he heard Quinn's voice, how small and childlike and terrified she sounded, he motioned for Finn to pause it, "What's wrong?"

"I-I don't know, Noah. But you need to come home, San-San said that someone is hurt, she sent me to Britt's to call 911." Quinn told Noah, her words coming out in a rush, Noah having to pause for a minute to process them, the boy letting out a soft curse when he realized just what Quinn was telling him.

"Quinn who was home?" Noah asked already pulling on his shoes, frantically searching for his keys. Finn stopping him, holding out his hand and motioning Noah to follow him downstairs.

"Mom, Hiram, Blaine and Rachel. What do I do, Noah? What if-what if-?" Quinn said, fear preventing her from finishing her sentence.

"Quinn, you need to calm down." Noah demanded and was rewarded by the sound of Quinn drawing in a deep breath the sound rattling down the line, much better than the fast, panicked gasps of air she was taking just moments before. Noah watched as Finn talked to his mother, both of them looking at him with concern as he tightened his jaw and fixed his eyes on a discolored spot on the wallpaper in front of him, "I am on my way home, okay? I will be there as soon as I can. I want you to stay at Britt's." Finn lived on the other side of town and it would take him at least fifteen minutes to get to his house from here and from the looks of the conversation Finn and his mother were now engaged in, it would be one of them driving him home.

"Noah, I can't! I have to go home! San's there and she's by herself! I have to!" Quinn cried frantically resuming her pacing of Brittany's foyer. Brittany was startled by the hysteria in Quinn's voice, her own heart rating picking up and as she watched as her mother tried to soothe Quinn, to quiet the young girl, but it was as if Quinn couldn't hear her. Brittany couldn't hear what Noah was saying to Quinn to reassure her, but it seemed to be working as Quinn once again paused in her movements, her breathing slowing before she hung up the phone, striding to the door. Brittany could her hear mom trying to convince Quinn to stay or at least let her drive Quinn to her house, but Quinn was shaking her head and neither of them paying attention as Brittany slipped on her own shoes.

Quinn continued to ignore Mrs. Pierce, not able to make out her words over the buzzing in her ears, as she once again ran from the house, single minded in her pursuit to return home, not caring that her muscles were burning and that she felt so lightheaded that she was terrified she would faint if she stopped and allowed her mind to catch up to her body. She skidded to a stop when she arrived at her own house, the door still thrown wide open, yet no sound was coming from the open door, nothing to even signify that people were inside. Quinn shook her head to clear the black spots from her vision that had appeared as soon as she had stopped moving, trudging slowly up the stairs and into the house, holding her breath, and trying to remain as quiet as possible as if she was afraid of disturbing whatever was waiting for her. Quinn had barely gotten more than twenty steps into the house, just having passed the overturned table, and dodged the fallen papers, before she let out an ear piercing, bone chilling shriek.

* * *

Santana had waited until Quinn was well out of sight before turning and going back into the house on trembling legs, her heart beating mouse quick in her chest in anticipation of what she would find when she walked back inside. The first thing she noticed when she walked back into the house, was the smell, a metallic coppery odor with a hint of something sweeter underneath it so pungent that she could almost taste it, swallowing reflexively against the nausea that she could feel rising, she buried her nose in the crook of her elbow, breathing only through her mouth as she side stepped the mess in the foyer, grateful that she had not taken off her shoes, when she heard the crunch of glass below her, looking down to see the amber colored glass of a liquor bottle littering the floor beneath her feet. The smell grew more overwhelming the closer that she got to den, she could see the low light of the TV flickering on the wall, but the room was so dark that she couldn't make anything out. She fumbled for the light switch, swallowing the terrified scream and bile as the room was illuminated and she took in the scene before her, clutching at the wall of the entrance way beside her in an attempt to keep herself upright as her head spun so fiercely she nearly lost her balance.

The first thing she noticed as the light illuminated the darkness of the den, were the clothes strewn throughout the room belonging to each of the children and to their mother, the suitcases and duffel bags that once contained them resting overturned and crumpled throughout the room, and it was then that she saw the blood, was able to place the strong odor that blanketed the room as coming from the large amount of blood that covered the carpet, the saturation so heavy in some places that it had darkened it from off white to near black. She slow drew her eyes from where the wood of the foyer met the carpet of the den and the splotches of red began, to where her mother's body lay midway into the room, the carpet becoming darker and more saturated as the blood pooled around her, seeping into the carpet, limbs posed in unnatural positions, blood covering every inch of her body, her hair partially obscuring her face, head tilted to face the opposite wall.

Santana lurched forward, nearly pitching face first into the blood covered carpet as she picked her way across the den, her feet making a sickening squelching noise as they sank into the saturated carpet the closer she got to her mother's fallen form. She knew that there was no way that anyone could survive losing that much blood, but she had to make sure, had to make sure that there was nothing she could do to save Shelby, to fix this. It wasn't until she reached Shelby's prone form, that she saw Hiram's body crumpled in between the overturned coffee table and the wall, his head nearly touching his chest, blood and something thicker fanning out along the wall behind his head, a gun laying beside his hand that rested in the blood pooling around him, Santana gagged as she forced herself to turn from him, not wanting to see anymore, her eyes falling on her mother below her.

Shelby's eyes were closed, her face swollen and bruised in some places, the swelling most noticable around her eyes and the bridge of her obviously broken nose, even under the blood that was covering her face in some places .Santana dropped to her knees beside her mother, not concerned with the blood that she could feel seeping into her pants where they rested against the ground, her shaking hands hovering above her mother's fallen body, before pressing her hands firmly to the oval shaped wound on the upper left side of her chest, the blood cool to the touch, slightly tacky as it stuck to her skin, removing her hands when her eyes roved over her mother's body, taking in the many oval shaped wounds that littered her mother's torso and abdomen through the dark almost black blood that coated her entire form, becoming aware that her mother's chest was not moving with the rise and fall of her breathing. Santana reached out a shaking hand, pressing two fingers to the pulse point in Shelby's neck, becoming accuately aware of the absence of a pulse throbbing against her fingers.

After a few more beats, she pulled her hand away as she got to her feet, her pants clinging to her skin uncomfortably where the blood had soaked through them, causing them to stick to her skin, her head spinning with the change in position, nearly forcing her back to her knees. She scanned the room quickly looking for any sign of Blaine or Rachel, forcing herself not to look back at Hiram's crumpled form, knowing that with what she had already seen, checking a pulse and trying to help him would be pointless. She saw no sign of Blaine or Rachel, breathing a slight sigh of relief before she stumbled out of the living room on shaky and nearly uncooperative legs, screaming their names as she ran up the stairs, missing a step and nearly sliding down the stairs, her knees burning and stinging where they rubbed against the carpet as she caught herself on the banister, forcing herself to slow her frantic movements so she didn't further injure herself.

She couldn't understand why they weren't answering her, why she wasn't receiving a response, silently praying that they would be okay, as she ran into her bedroom, throwing the door of her closet open wide, the sound of frightened whimpers meeting her ears, as the acrid smell of vomit and pungent aroma of urine entered her nostrils, her stomach flipping dangerously as she struggled to keep herself from vomiting. She saw Blaine and Rachel pressed against the wall at the back of the closet, Blaine's legs pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around them, his head pressed to his knees, and Rachel beside him, mirroring his position except her face was buried against his shoulder, a plastic bag that they must have found in the closet, clutched in her first.

"Blaine? Rachel?" Santana asked her voice soft and even, Blaine's head snapping up at the sound of her voice, Rachel protesting the sudden shift in movement, as she turned away from him, resting her forehead on her knees.

"Sanny?" Blaine breathed out, his voice tiny as he used the nickname for his sister that neither he nor Rachel had used in years, "I had an accident." Santana could hear the shame coloring his voice as he looked up at her, his eyes wide and shining.

"That's okay, Blaine," Santana soothed as she turned on the light to get a closer look at her siblings, "Blaine are you hurt?" She received no response and looked down to see Blaine staring at her pant legs, at the blood that covered them, his face pale, his mouth hanging open as she he seemed to stare through her. Santana knelt in front of him then, snapping her fingers in front of his face to get his attention, "Blaine, are you hurt?" Blaine shook his head frantically.

"Sanny is that-"Blaine started to say but Santana shook her head at him gently, his mouth snapping shut as she turned her attention to Rachel. He desperately wanted to ask why his sister had blood on her pants, and on her white shoes, and even staining the palms of her hands and her fingers, but he stayed silent, focusing his gaze on a splotch of red on the toe of Santana's shoe, and biting his lip to stop himself from blurting out all of his, as he listened to the soft murmur of Santana and Rachel's voices.

"Rach, I need you to look at me, I need to make sure you are okay." Santana told Rachel, who just pulled her legs in closer, pressing her forehead tighter against her knees.

"Too bright. Hurts." Rachel moaned, trying to block out the offending light, "Don't feel good." Santana glanced at Blaine, looking at him to clarify the broken words that Rachel was moaning.

"He shoved her, and-and she fell, she hit her head on the edge of the stairs and then I brought her up here." Blaine said, an edge of hysteria in his voice as he remembered the terror of watching as his father flung Rachel away from him with such force that she had slipped on the wood, her head making a sickening thud as it hit the bottom stair, it had been the fear in that moment that had caused him to lose control of his bladder, the urine splashing against the wood of the floor, and soaking into his sock and the front of his jeans.

"Okay, we are going to get you out of here alright?" Santana said, and Blaine nodded, pushing himself to his feet, Santana seeing the damp patch on the front of his pants, her heart breaking for both of them, for how terrified they must have been hiding in the darkness of the closet, for what they must have heard, what they could have seen in the three hours that they had been home with Hiram and Shelby, wondering just how much of the scene downstairs they witnessed with no one there to protect them.

Santana's thoughts were shattered by the terrified scream that shattered the silence of the house, causing Blaine to drop back to the ground, his hands pressed over his ears, as he scooted back against the wall attempting to make himself as small as possible, his body trembling as he breath began coming in fast panicked gasps. Santana ran from the room, the sounds of Blaine shouting at her not to leave him, mixing with the sound of Quinn's terrified scream from below her. She took the stairs two at time, her eyes falling on Quinn who was standing in the entrance of the den, the sound of her scream causing Santana's ears to ring as she winced at the slid to a stop beside Quinn, whose eyes were fixed in the direction of her mother's prone form, Santana averting her eyes, as she spun Quinn around to face her. The feel of Santana's hands on her arms serving to break her from whatever trance she was in, the scream dying in her throat as she struggled against Santana's hold.

"Quinn! Quinn!" Santana shouted, and was rewarded when Quinn stopped struggling, panting and sweating as she slumped forward with exhaustion, Santana having to hold the girl upright as her legs threatened to give way. Santana peered into Quinn's face, the younger girl staring at something beyond Santana's shoulder, her eyes blinking slowly as they remained unfocused. Santana didn't have time to be angry at Quinn for coming back here, for not waiting outside when she could hear Blaine's terrified shouts from upstairs and see Brittany standing in the doorway. Santana grabbed Quinn by the elbow, pulling her towards the door, as Quinn followed mechanically, her eyes once again fixed on the sight in the den as they walked.

"Brittany, take Quinn outside and stay there. I have to get Blaine and Rachel." Santana told her friend, as Brittany nodded, wrapping an arm around Quinn's waist as she led her from the house.

When Santana got back upstairs, she found Blaine and Rachel in the same positions she had left them in, save for the fact that Blaine had stopped screaming and Rachel was dry heaving, the plastic bag held between her knees, her tiny body shaking with the force of it. It was then that Santana was able to see the bruising and slight swelling of Rachel's cheek and jaw line, where Hiram had clearly hit her with the back of his hand.

Santana waited until Rachel was doing nothing more than coughing slightly before motioning for Blaine to stand up. Santana lifted Rachel into her arms, Rachel burying her face into the space where Santana's neck met her shoulder instinctively. Santana was trying to figure out a way to get Blaine and Rachel passed the den without them seeing the horrors that it held, her eyes settling on a silk scarf that doubled as a belt, hanging from a hanger near her head, deciding that it would work as makeshift blindfold for Blaine and prayed that Rachel would keep her head buried in Santana's shoulder.

"Sanny, don't be mad at mommy, okay?" Rachel said, her words muffled by Santana's shirt and skin of her neck, her words punctuated by a yawn. Santana's brows knitted in confusion at Rachel's words, as she glanced down at her sister, because how could Santana not be mad at their mom? She was the reason that her two youngest children were cowering on the floor of a closet, so terrified that one of them had wet themselves and the other one had hit her head on the floor so hard that she appeared to have a concussion. Santana just nodded, because she couldn't concentrate on anything else, her thoughts spinning so quickly that she couldn't find any to grab onto, her body moving on instinct and adrenaline, her thoughts fully on her younger siblings and getting them out of the house. She could hear the sirens wailing in the distance as they hit the bottom step and Santana stopped, pulling Blaine in front of her.

"Blaine, I'm gonna put this on you okay?" Santana said, holding out the scarf to him, motioning that she was going to tie it around his eyes like a blindfold.

"Why?" Blaine asked, curiously and Santana listened to the sirens growing nearer, wanting to get them out of the house before the police and paramedics were on scene.

"We are gonna play a game, okay? You trust me right?" Santana asked and Blaine nodded. He wanted to tell her that he was too old for her games, but the fear in her eyes and the way her hands shook as she knotted the soft silk behind his head, had him agreeing. He blindly reached for her hand, as she grasped it, squeezing it reassuringly, his other hand reaching to clasp her pant leg, his heart pounding in his chest as the fear that he was going to fall grew. Rachel kept her head tightly pressed against Santana's neck, Santana checking every few seconds to make sure the child hadn't fallen asleep in her arms, forcing herself to focus on nothing more than getting Blaine and Rachel out of the house so that she wouldn't look one last time at the den, at their mother's stiff and cold body, laying exposed on the floor of the living room, the blood probably having congealed by now, drying and sticking to her skin.

Santana swallowed around the lump in her throat at the thought of leaving Shelby alone in the house, trying to remember when the last time was that she told her mom she loved her, that she had spoken to her mother with anything other than hate and spite coloring her voice, but now she was gone, stabbed to death by the man she loved, the man whose children she had had even when she hadn't wanted anymore, the man she had chosen over her children time and time again, that same man having shot himself four feet away from where her body cooled while their children hid in a closet on the floor above them, and Santana found that she felt nothing towards him, and she wanted to feel something, hate, anger, or even sadness, but she just felt empty, which was worse in some ways.

The cool night air licked at Santana's skin causing her to shiver and goosebumps to rise across her skin as soon as she got outside. The sirens had stopped now, red and blue lights bouncing off of the houses and their faces from where the ambulances and police cars had come to stop in the street in front of their house. She felt Blaine grip tighter at his hand, his grip almost bruising as he crushed her fingers together uncomfortably. Rachel was whimpering against her neck that her head hurt, that it was too bright and, Santana could feel hot tears sliding down her skin and pooling into the collar of her shirt from where Rachel's face was pressed against her neck.

For a moment it was as if Santana was underwater, seeing the frantic movements around her as the police officers and paramedics moved around her and her siblings coming in and out of the house, their shouts, the sirens sounding muffled and faraway, incoherent, and if any of them had tried to speak to her, to get information from her she remained unaware, only able feel the erratic beat of her own heart, the dampness of Rachel's tears on her skin and the warmth of Blaine's palm in her own, and then Brittany was there, standing in front of her, her lips moving but Santana unable to make out the words she was saying, and when Brittany placed her hands on Santana's shoulders, everything came rushing back as if her mind was swimming to the surface, the cacophony of different sounds crashing down around her, the noise so disorientating, so unexpectedly loud that if it hadn't been for Brittany's hands on her shoulders grounding her, she was sure she would have fallen.

"San, San, are you okay?" Brittany asked frantically, had been asking since Santana had come out of the house, Rachel in her arms, and Blaine clinging to her pant leg, a blue scarf wrapped around his eyes. Santana had only gotten about twenty paces from her front door when she stopped, standing statute still, her eyes unfocused and glazed , her face expressionless and paler than the Brittany had even thought possible, and even in the stillness of Santana's body, Brittany could see the slight tremors that shook her limbs every so often. After a few beats, Santana's eyes focused, dark eyes roving over Brittany's face, as Santana swallowed roughly, drawing in a deep rattling breath, trying to force her voice to cooperate, to tell Brittany that she was okay, but all she could do was shake her head. Mrs. Pierce was there then, having led Quinn over to her siblings, pulling Rachel from Santana's arms, Santana's grip tightening around the little girl until Rachel whimpered as she fought to keep her in her arms.

"Santana," Mrs. Pierce whispered, relinquishing her hold on Rachel momentarily, watching as Santana's eyes darted around frantically, "You're safe, sweetheart, you're safe." Santana glanced at Mrs. Pierce, nodding wordlessly, her eyes distant as she allowed Mrs. Pierce to take Rachel from her arms, the smaller girl groggy and weak from the pain in her head, moaning as she was shifted into a different set of arms, breathing in the lavender scent of Mrs. Pierce's perfume, the woman's steady even heartbeat soothing her, as she whispered to Rachel repeatedly that she was safe.

Santana watched as Mrs. Pierce led Rachel and Blaine away from her in the direction of the ambulances that were parked against the curb. She felt Quinn's gaze on her, and turned to meet her sister's eyes, watching as Quinn's eyes widened, her face growing slack as the color drained from it, Santana's brow knitting in confusion at Quinn's reaction, as Quinn clamped a hand over her mouth, rushing across the lawn and away from her and Brittany, the sound of vomiting reaching her ears a second later.

"Santana, are you hurt?" Brittany questioned, asking the one question she had wanted to ask since Santana had appeared from within the house, blood staining her clothing and the pristine white of her sneakers, a crimson smear on her lower jaw where she had unconsciously touched her face, transferring the blood that stained her hands there. Santana shook her head slowly, her gaze following Brittany's to where it rested on her blood soaked pants and shoes, raising her trembling hands as she saw the blood staining her fingers, darkening the skin around her nails, and everything came slamming into her, remembering the overpowering smell of copper, the feel of her shoes sinking into her sodden carpet, the coolness and slight tackiness of the blood that coated the skin of her hands from where she had pressed them against her mother's torso in a futile attempt to stem the bleeding from one of the crescent shaped holes near the place where her heart was, her head spinning as she wavered on her feet, rubbing her hands together frantically in an attempt to remove the blood from her skin.

"It's-it's not mine," Santana said, hysteria creeping into her voice as she began to more violently rub her hands together, needing to get Shelby's blood off of her hands, off of her clothes, "Oh god, I'm going to be sick." Santana swallowed thickly as her stomach flipped and turned, bile rising in her throat as she ran on legs that threatened to give out to the side of the house, having enough presence of mind to feel embarrassed at the thought of vomiting in front of the many people that now swarmed her lawn, doubling over and retching violently. She felt Brittany's presence beside her as the force of her vomiting drove her to her knees, shoving Brittany away from her when she attempted to comfort her by rubbing her back, not able to take the feeling of anyone touching her, not then, not when she was covered in her mother's blood and tainted by the images that were playing behind her eyes.

**Part 2 will be up later this evening. Noah will play a much bigger role in the second part of this chapter. Love it, hate it, let me know. **


	4. Chapter 3, Part B

**Disclaimer: All characters are the property of Glee and RIB. I only own the plot.**

**As promised here is the second part of the last chapter. These two chapters were super hard and emotionally difficult to write, as I wanted to give as accurate a potrayal as possible. Thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing. I appreciate any and all feedback. If you have any questions about anything that you want to clarify you can always PM me on here or find me on Tumblr at lifeloveinsanity28. This chapter is much less triggering than the previous chapter, so for this chapter there are no trigger warnings. **

Carole Hummel broke nearly every speed limit while driving her son and Noah the five miles across town to Noah's house, stopping short of running red lights, noticing not for the first time that they seemed to hit every red light in their rush. She had seen the terror in Noah's eyes, when Finn had brought him downstairs after he had received the phone call from his sister, saw the way he paced and his hands shook, how pale his face had become with whatever his sister had told him, choosing then to drive him to his house, not wanting to allow the clearly upset boy to drive himself.

Noah had been a near constant presence in their home since he and Finn were much younger, having met when they were placed on the same baseball team. And while she had seen Noah angry, had seen him joking and playful, she had never seen him like this. She had never seen him nearly hysterical, even as he sat silently, stone faced in the backseat of her car, she could see the way his eyes darted around frantically, the way he clenched his jaw every so often, could hear the soft rythmic thumping of his hands tapping against his jean clad thighs repeatedly.

Noah could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, causing his heart beat to pick up, and making him to shift impatiently in the backseat of Carole Hummel's car, forcing himself to take measured breaths in through his nose as he had been taught, clenching his jaw so tightly that his teeth ached, because all he wanted to do was scream at Carole, to tell her to drive faster, his thoughts racing as images of blood, of his siblings' broken bodies, fearful eyes and pale faces, rushed through his mind, causing his stomach to clench painfully. His anxiety only growing as he heard the sirens, saw the red and blue lights flashing against the darkened houses when they pulled down the street.

Carole had barely pulled to a stop when Noah was bursting from the car, taking in the swarm of people on the front lawn, officers in blue uniforms stringing bright yellow crime scene tape at the border of their yard and the street, his eyes falling on a large white van with the words crime scene unit parked along the curb in front of his neighbor's home. His eyes darting around frantically in an attempt to locate his siblings, trying to drown out the noise of the chaos around him, in an attempt to listen for their voices, and that's when he heard it, a small voice screaming from the back of one of the ambulances in front of his house. He knew he was hearing Rachel's voice, Rachel's screams as he allowed his legs to carry him in the direction of her cries.

He found Rachel on the stretcher in the back of the ambulance, screaming and fighting against the paramedics who were trying to work on her to no avail. He saw Mrs. Pierce beside her trying to soothe Rachel by running gentle hands through Rachel's hair, whispering soothingly to the small girl as Rachel continued to scream for him, for Santana, for Quinn, for their mom, the sounds of her screams raw and painful. Noah didn't even think as he climbed into the back of the ambulance, the paramedic's scolding ending Rachel's screaming for a beat as her attention turned to him.

He watched her face crumple, the sounds of her wailing his name so pain filled that Noah's heart clenched in his chest as he pulled her into his arms, once again being scolded and choosing to ignore it as he pulled her into his arms, running his hands through her hair awkwardly as he held her, unused to comforting his younger siblings, that job falling to Santana more often then not. But then he had seen Rachel, who looked so tiny in the center of the stretcher, her eyes so terrified that all he had wanted to do was hold her. He felt anger coursing through his veins as he wondered just what had happened to cause Rachel to be so terrified, to be hurt enough to need medical attention. He watched as Mrs. Pierce climbed from the ambulance, speaking lowly to Mrs. Hummel and Finn just outside the doors, leaving Noah alone with Rachel in the back of the ambulance. It was only when he and Rachel were left alone in the back of the ambulance that he noticed Blaine sitting on the bench to in front of him, a blanket wrapped around his thin shoulders, as he swung his legs, staring at his feet as they moved in front of him.

"Blaine." Noah murmured, Rachel's wails having quieted to body shaking sobs. Blaine's head snapped up at the sound of Noah's voice, a look of relief crossing his face briefly, before his face crumpled in nearly the same way that Rachel's had. Tears silently falling down his cheeks, as his body trembled, Noah motioning for Blaine to join himself and Rachel on the stretcher. Blaine doing as instructed climbed up onto the stretcher resting his knees on the mattress so that he was kneeling and at the perfect height to bury his face in Noah's shoulder, arms coming up to wind around Noah's neck as he fell against his older brother. Noah kept one armed wrapped around Rachel, as the other came up to encircle Blaine as he pulled both of them tighter against him.

He found that he was fighting the urge to ask his terrified siblings numerous question. His confusion of the situation was causing his frustration to grow, confusion as to how or why Rachel was hurt, or why his siblings were so terrified that they could do little more than sob and tremble in his arms. He also wanted to know where Santana and Quinn were, his heart skipping a beat as his thoughts settled on them, fear causing the blood to freeze in his veins at the thought that they could be hurt, and scared and alone, somewhere in their house or in one of the other ambulances.

Blaine pulled away from Noah once his tears had stopped, rubbing at his face and sniffling, as he twisted to sit on the edge of the cot, the weight of Noah's arm remaining around his shoulders. Blaine wound one of his own arms around Noah's, clutching it tightly as he brought the middle and ring finger on his other hand into his mouth, sucking on them slightly. Noah's eyebrows raised in concern and confusion at his younger brother's actions, the sound of Blaine sucking on his fingers mixing with Rachel's hiccuped sobs. Noah hadn't seen Blaine suck on his fingers in a long time; the habit was one that the little boy had broken himself when he was five and had been teased at school for it; Noah found his concern only grew as he watched his younger brother soothe himself.

"Noah," Rachel said her voice quivering and muffled by the fabric of his shirt from where it rested on his chest, the pounding in her head resuming anew as the adrenaline drained from her body, leaving her feeling nauseous and weak, making it difficult to keep her eyes open. Blackness was pulling at the edges of her vision as it threatened to swallow her, the safety and comfort she felt in Noah's arms only making it harder to fight the sleep that wanted to overtake, "I'm scared and my head hurts."

"Shh, Rachel, you're okay, I've got you. Can I tell you two a secret?" Noah asked in an attempt to distract the younger children, feeling Rachel nod against him, Blaine's dark eyes searching his face as he nodded as well, "I'm scared too. I'm scared because you're hurt and Blaine is scared and I don't know what happened, and I don't know where Santana and Quinn are. It's okay to be scared, but I'm here now, and the police are out there and no one is going to hurt you now, either of you."

Noah knew instinctively that either Hiram or Shelby had hurt them, his jaw clenching tightly against the rage that threatened to overpower him, struggling to keep his emotions in check not wanting to frighten them any more than they already were. He felt Blaine tug at his arm, as he gestured outside of the ambulance, not taking his fingers out of his mouth, "Dude, I don't know what you are trying to tell me unless you take your fingers out of your mouth." Blaine just rolled his eyes, his gestures becoming larger and more agitated as he tried to make his brother understand without taking his fingers from his mouth.

"Santana and Quinn are up by the house. That's what he is trying to tell you." Rachel whispered looking up at him, and it was then that he saw just how pale she was, how her eyebrows were drawn together in pain, the low light of the ambulance causing her to wince and squint her eyes. Noah rolled his eyes at Rachel. He remembered Rachel and Blaine's completely ridiculous and annoying twin shit from when they were younger. The two youngest had always been able to speak for each other, through some sort of creepy twin mind meld thing and since Rachel pretty much _never_ stopped talking, she had constantly spoken for Blaine when the twins were younger much to the family's never ending frustration. Blaine hadn't found his voice and started really speaking for himself until he and Rachel were seperated in kindergarten.

"Okay, I am going to go find them, but Mrs. Pierce and Finn's mom are going to stay here with you while Rachel gets checked out," Noah told them. Rachel began shaking her head furiously, ignoring the pain that spiked through it with each shake, dizziness threatening to overwhelm her and send her into unconciousness, "Rachel, you have to let them help you, they can make you feel better, I promise, and I will be right back."

Rachel relented then, sliding off of Noah's lap as he moved to stand, laying back against the cot, her eyes closing with pain that the shift in position caused. Noah leaning down and ruffling Blaine's hair as he ducked his head to keep from hitting it on the roof of the ambulance as climbed down from it. He nodded to Mrs. Pierce, Mrs. Hummel and Finn where they stood a few feet away, exchanging a few words with them as he requested that they stay with Rachel and Blaine, before crossing over to the crime scene tape and pulling it up in an attempt to duck underneath it, before being stopped by a large hand clamping down on his upper arm, resisting the urge to strike at whoever had grabbed him.

"Son, you can't come in here." A deep voice rumbled from above him and Noah straightened up to see that a burly officer was standing over him, the man's hands resting on his utility belt where his gun and other necessary weapons were, drawing himself up to his full height in an attempt to intimidate the boy, who did nothing more than scoff attempting to once again cross the barrier, "Son."

"This is my house," Noah spat, "My sisters are in there, I need to see them." He could feel the hysteria creeping into his consciousness, the fear turning to anger as it curdled in his blood, once again ignoring the officer.

"Son, I am warning you." The officer stated again, stepping closer to Noah, until they were toe to toe, Noah scanned the lawn and saw Quinn sitting against the base of the large oak tree that sat on the right hand side of the yard. The tree had been the best climbing tree when they were younger, until Quinn had fallen out of it when they were ten and broken her arm in two places, and Noah was unsurprised that she had sought out the familiarity of her favorite spot in their yard in the midst of the chaos that surrounded her.

"Please, sir," Noah plead, lowering his head, and casting his to the ground in a show of submissiveness. He knew just how useless he would be to his siblings if he got himself into trouble by arguing with the officer, "I need to see them, one of them is right there." Noah gestured in Quinn's direction with one hand and the officer turned to see the young girl sitting under the tree, knees pulled against her, before nodding and lifting the crime scene tape so Noah could duck under it. Noah nearly jogged to where Quinn was sitting, dropping to his knees in front of her, unintentionally startling her, as searched her face, her body for any sign of injury but saw none. He breathed a brief sigh of relief, but then he saw the empty, hollow expression in her eyes, her face sallow, giving her a wraith like appearance.

"Quinn," Noah said, reaching out to cup her cheek, Quinn not responding to his touch or the sound of her name, the haunted look remaining in her eyes that were staring off into the distance, her face remaining expressionless, her jaw clenched tightly, as he spoke her name again louder this time, and Quinn's eyes focused and met his.

"Noah." She breathed out in relief, her posture relaxing slightly as she looked at him, "When did you get here?"

"A few minutes ago," Noah told her, Quinn nodding, her gaze once again shifting away from his, "Quinn, I need you to stay with me, okay?" He was trying to bring her back into this moment, to prevent her from once again retreating into her mind, something he had seen her do many times when she was feeling overwhelmed or scared.

"Are you hurt?" He asked and was rewarded with a shake of a blonde head, even if her gaze had drifted elsewhere.

"Where are mom and Hiram?" He questioned watching as Quinn's spine stiffened, her posture once again becoming erect, her breathing stilling so much it was almost imperceptiable, "Quinn?" He repeated receiving no response, the haunted look returning to her eyes once again. He attempted to call her attention back to him by repeating her name a few more times, but she remained motionless, expressionless.

He didn't know what to do, he didn't know how to bring Quinn back from where ever she had retreated, it had never been something that he had to do. He couldn't help the guilt and self loathing that overcame him at that moment, at how helpless he was to _do_ anything because he hadn't been there for her, for any of them in a long time. Quinn had always been harder for him to read, harder for him to understand. Understanding Santana was easy for him because they were so similar and with Rachel and Blaine it was easy because they were so young and more open than any of their older siblings had ever been, but he had never been able to understand Quinn, and as much as it pained him he had always kept her at a distance because of this, because he didn't know how to talk to her, he didn't know how to comfort her and he could never figure out what she was thinking.

Noah saw a flash of blonde hair from the left hand corner of the yard, glancing up to see Brittany pacing near the side of the house, knowing that where Brittany was so was Santana. He tried one last time to get Quinn's attention to no avail. He sighed as he climbed to his feet, running his hand over her hair feeling wholly inadequate in his attempt at comfort as she remained motionless, not even watching as he walked away from her to where Brittany stood.

"Britt?" Noah questioned once he reached her side, squinting into the shadows on the side of the house, in an attempt to locate Santana, his eyes settling on the small figure legs splayed out in front of her from where she sat on the grass, head resting against the wall of the house.

"Noah, thank god." Brittany said, relief evident in her voice, causing Noah to offer her a lopsided smirk, as she threw her arms around him, his own arms coming up to squeeze her gently.

"Britt, what happened?" He asked when she pulled away and watched as she craned her head to look behind her. He knew that she was searching Santana's form, for any indication that the other girl was listening to them before taking his hand and pulling him a few feet away so that Santana was no longer in ear shot.

"I-I don't know, she won't tell me, none of them will tell me. I..I don't think Blaine and Rachel really know what happened though. But it's something bad, Noah, something really bad." Brittany explained her blue eyes pooling with tears, the hair on her arms and the back of her neck standing as she remembered the sound of Quinn's scream when she saw whatever had happened inside the house, her scream so horrible that Brittany's stomach had twisted violently and painfully, wanting nothing more than to cover her ears and block it out, barely having time to think before Santana was shoving Quinn into her arms and disappearing back upstairs.

"Is she-" Noah questioned, nodding his head in Santana's direction, not able to finish his question, watching as Brittany's eyes softened at the concern in his voice.

"She's not hurt," Brittany reassured him, "But she's scared. I've never seen her like this, Noah, she's...she's..." She trailed off because she didn't know how to describe what Santana was or if there was even a word for it, other than hysterical. Brittany had stayed on the side of the house with Santana after she had finished vomiting, seeing the wild look in her eyes as she pulled her pants and shoes off, screaming at Brittany that she needed the blood of when Brittany tried to stop her. Brittany had watched helplessly as Santana had turned the hose on then, scrubbing at the red splotches on her legs where the blood had soaked through her pants and dried on her skin, relenting and holding the hose for Santana as she had scrubbed at her hands, her eyes wild and haunted. After Santana had seemed satisfied with the job she had done, and her skin was rubbed raw in some places she had slid down the wall of the house and that was where she remained. Noah seemed to understand what Brittany wasn't saying, nodding as he thanked her for taking care of Santana, and asked her to help Quinn, to bring her over to the ambulance to have her looked at, telling Brittany that she was in shock or something.

As he rounded the corner of the house, he found Santana trembling and shivering from her position against the wall of the house, her head leaned back against the wall, eyes cast heavenward as if she was searching for some sort of answer among the stars. He was surprised that she was clad in only a shirt, averting his eyes from her bare legs and socked feet as he located her shoes and pants thrown haphazardly in the grass on the side of his house. He didn't alert Santana to his presence as he dug through the pockets of her pants, noticing the dark smears of blood that stained both articles of clothing, flinging them to the ground as if they had burned them when he found her keys. Santana continued to remain unaware of his presence as she stared up at the night sky, barely blinking. He was able to locate her duffel bag in the trunk of her car, digging through it as he pulled out a pair of her red sweatpants, surprised when he was also able to find her a spare pair of a white sneakers, grateful that Coach Sue was such a crazy Nazi, before he jogged back to where he left Santana.

"Santana." He called standing a few feet away from her, watching as Santana jumped,startled, barely able to stop herself from smacking her head on the brick wall behind her. Santana's eyes widened as she saw Noah standing in front of her, a pair of her red Cheerio sweatpants and her spare pair of sneakers dangling from his fingers, tears flooded her eyes as he handed them to her, turning his back on her as she pulled the sweatpants up her legs. The sweat pants clung to the spots of her skin that remained damp from the garden hose that hung a few feet away, as she shivered slightly remembering the cold water hitting her skin as she had screamed and frantically scrubbed at her skin in an attempt to get the blood off of her, her skin rubbed raw in some places where she had been too harsh, sliding on her shoes once she had pulled the sweatpants on.

"Done." She whispered, her voice raspy, from disuse as she hadn't spoken since she had slumped against the house some time ago, her throat burning and raw from vomiting and screaming with such force, so that it felt as if the words were clawing their way out of her throat. She watched as Noah crossed the lawn, sitting beside her, mirroring her position as he pulled his legs up against his body, folding his arms on top of his raised knees. Her stomach was churning as she tried to find the words to tell Noah what she needed to tell him, knowing she needed to tell him that their mother was dead, that Hiram was dead, that Rachel and Blaine had been home when it happened and she had been unable to stop Quinn from seeing their bodies, and how it was all her fault. Her stomach surged as her thoughts raced making her nauseous as she leaned away from Noah vomiting once again.

Noah's nose wrinkled with disgust as the silence was filled with the sound of Santana gagging and coughing, her body shuddering with the force of every heave. He swallowed down the bile that had risen in his own throat his sympathetic stomach kicking, taking deep breaths in through his mouth as he placed a hand on the small of her back, the material of her shirt damp with the sweat that coated her clammy skin, rubbing gentle circles onto her back to soothe her.

"They're dead." Santana whispered, when she had stopped vomiting, it was the first time she had said the words out loud and her heart began to race as the weight of the words hit her, she remained turned away from him, her cheek resting against her raised knees. Her words were nearly swallowed by the chaos that surrounded them, but Noah had heard them, his blood turning into ice in his veins as he snapped his head to stare at her, trying to force her to turn and look at him. Santana could feel Noah's gaze burning into the back of her head, but she refused to turn towards him, her eyes focused on the bush in front of her watching as it blurred as tears filled her eyes, blinking furiously to clear them from her eyes.

"I-I don't understand what you are telling me, San." Noah stammered, glancing at Santana's blood stained clothing that laid in a heap across from them, and Santana turned her head so she was facing him, her cheek remaining pressed against her knees. She locked eyes with Noah and saw fear there and sadness, emotions that she hadn't seen Noah display for years.

"He killed her, then he killed himself." Santana whispered, her voice flat and toneless, almost clinical, as it gave away none of her emotions as she spoke. Noah felt his own eyes burn with tears, that he was quick to blink away before Santana could see them.

Their mother was dead, killed by her husband, the same asshole who had put Noah in juvie when he had tried to protect her, making sure to have him charged with domestic battery for the punch Noah had thrown and landed. He had been sent away for nine months and Shelby had only visited him a handful of times, bringing Santana with her every time allowing Santana to drive the conversation. It had been Santana who had called him as much as she was allowed, putting Blaine and Rachel on the phone to talk to him. The few times he had gotten Shelby on the phone, he had been frustrated by her disinterest, at the way she had turned the situation on him when he had asked her how she could let Hiram have him arrested, let Hiram have him sent away, her only response was that he knew how Hiram was and he shouldn't have done what he did, ignoring him as he shouted at her that he had only been doing that to protect her, to keep Hiram from hurting her. She was the reason he was barely ever home after he was released from juvie, he was just so angry at her, with her, at how she had chosen Hiram over them time and time again.

Now she was dead and Noah had spent the last few years _hating _her for how helpless she made him feel, and she had died thinking that he hated her, unable to even remember the last conversation he had had with her, his anger with her and with Hiram keeping him away from the house as much as possible, his only interactions with her recently being the words he grunted to her when he saw her in the kitchen in the morning, or the times Santana forced him to carry Shelby to bed when she passed out on the couch.

But he remembered a time before Hiram, before Blaine and Rachel, when his mom had sung him to sleep nightly, had danced with him to standards and show tunes, Noah standing on her feet as she swept him around the living room, Santana sitting on the couch cheering and laughing at them, until Shelby had collapsed on the couch next to her, tickling Santana until she could hardly breathe. It was memories like that that made him feel like he had failed his mom, like he hadn't done enough to help her, to try and get them out of this house. He knew he was still technically a kid, but his mom had been so different before Hiram, and he had wanted that back so badly that he hadn't known how to deal with the depressed, alcoholic that had taken her place, so he distanced himself from her, but he couldn't help but wonder now if he should have fought harder, done something more.

"How?" He whispered, unable to stop a lone tear from rolling down his cheek, not able to ignore the look of shock that graced Santana's features briefly at the unexpected show of emotion from him.

"He-he stabbed her, and then he shot himself," Santana said swallowing roughly, her stomach churning once again as she recounted what had she found, "There was so much blood, Noah."

Noah saw Santana shudder at the memory, her eyes becoming unfocused once again, the same look shining in the depth of her dark eyes as he had seen in Quinn's. He scooted closer to her, pulling her against his side, as she rested her head on his chest. He could feel how cold her skin was, still damp in some places, as she shivered in his arms, rubbing his hand up and down her arm in an attempt to warm her.

"Were you here? Y'know when it happened?" Noah asked, resting his head against the cool brick of the wall behind them, as he felt Santana shake her head, staring into the vast nothingness of the stars above him, wishing that they contained the answers he needed so that he didn't have to make Santana remember everything that transpired that night, not wanting to see that broken, haunted look in either of his sister's eyes.

"No-no, Rachel was here and Blaine. It's all my fault." Santana whispered giving voice to the thoughts that had been running through her mind since she had discovered the crime scene that used to be their den.

"What are you talking about?" Noah asked as he held Santana tighter against him as she trembled harder.

"I pushed her, Noah." Santana said, remembering the suitcases and duffel bags that she had seen in the living room, remembering pleading with Shelby the previous evening to leave Hiram, and for the first time in years she had listened, and that was what had gotten her killed. It was because of Santana that she and her siblings were orphans. Santana couldn't help but wonder how things would have been different if she hadn't pushed so hard, if she hadn't had Blaine and Rachel go home with Brittany, would Shelby still be alive? She had thought she would feel relief knowing that Hiram was dead, that he couldn't hurt any of them anymore but all she felt was empty, because this wasn't what she wanted, not at all. She had just wanted her mom back, had wanted her mom to be her mom again, had just wanted her mom to take them and run as far as they could away from Hiram and now they were both dead.

"I begged her to leave last night, he-he's been...he was hitting Rachel," Santana explained, feeling her brother stiffen as he drew a deep breath in through his nose, and she was no longer concerned with keeping Rachel's secret, seeing as there was no one left for Noah to hurt, "And she listened, Noah, we have been begging her to leave for years, and this time she listened. He-he must have caught her, or something. I saw the suitcases in the living room, she was going to leave, we were going to get away and now she's gone."

"Did you know?" Noah asked through gritted teeth, Santana pulled her head back just enough to look at him, to see the anger smoldering in his hazel eyes.

"Know what? That she was planning on leaving him? No." Santana told him, punctuating her statement with a furious shake of her head.

"No. Not that. That he was hurting Rachel. Did you know?" Noah asked again, holding Santana away from him by her upper arms forcing her to look at him as she shook her head.

"No, not until last night. I swear, Noah, I had no idea." Santana said her voice growing frantic as Noah's expression remained unchanged, fear coursing through her veins at the thought of Noah being angry with her for keeping it a secret from him, but after a few beats he nodded, relaxing back against the wall once again, allowing Santana to lay her head on his chest, as she once again whispered about her mother and Hiram's deaths being her fault.

"This isn't your fault, San, not at all." Noah said, staring out across the lawn watching the steady stream of people coming in and out of the house, seeing the small clutch of neighbors, clad in pajamas and slippers, standing just beyond the bright yellow crime scene tape.

"Then whose is it? _I'm _the one who told her to leave, _I'm _the one who made them go home with Brittany," Santana spat, pulling away from him and climbing to her feet, "_I'm_ the reason she had our bags packed, _I'm _the reason that _they _had to sit on the floor of a closet that smelled like piss and vomit, while their mother was murdered and their father killed himself!"

Santana was yelling hysterically throughout her rant, Noah watching silently as she fell apart in front of him. He rushed forward and grasped her upper arms, Santana fighting against his hold, screeching at him to let her go.

"Look at me, Santana," Noah commanded forcefully, her movements stilling as her eyes met his, the broken look within them stealing his breath away and causing his heart to drop into his stomach, "This is not your fault, do you understand me? This is _Hiram's_ fault, _he_ did this, not you, this could never be because of you. Okay?"

Santana nodded slowly, staring into her brother's eyes, at the conviction and sincerity that shone within them, and for the first time since she had entered the house earlier that night, she felt something crumble inside of her, it happening so quickly that she didn't have the time to stop it, to throw her walls back up. The first sobbing burst from her mouth before she could stop it, and Noah pulled her into his arms, sliding to the ground with her cradled to his chest, her fists bunching the fabric of his shirt in his hands where she clutched at it, as she sobbed, the sound of her sobs so hopeless that Noah's heart ached.

"It's okay, San," He murmured in an attempt to comfort her, "We're going to be okay. We'll figure this out." And in that moment he didn't know if his words were more for her or an attempt to reassure himself, wanting nothing more than to take all of this away from her, from all of them.

"Noah? Santana?" He heard someone say from above them, Santana's tears had long since subsided, the two of them just sitting on the dew damp grass in silence. He hadn't wanted to let her go, to let this moment go, not knowing what he would have to face when he let her go but he turned to see Mrs. Hummel standing above them, "They want to take Rachel to the hospital now, Blaine too, they want to make sure he isn't hurt either."

"Blaine's fine, Hiram..he..he didn't hurt him." Santana said, shoving away from Noah as she climbed to her feet, dragging her hands over face to erase the remnants of her tears, Noah watching as her walls were erected once again, her eyes once again devoid of any emotion. Noah followed her, and climbed to his feet, reaching for her crumpled and blood stained clothes, gathering them into his arms, as Santana shot him a questioning look.

"We need to give them to the police, San." Noah explained and Santana nodded, following both Carole and Noah around the side of house, watching as Noah exchanged words with one of the crime scene technicians, gesturing to her as he spoke before handing the man her bloody clothes, Santana grateful to be rid of them, and everything that they symbolized.

"You should check on Rachel," Santana told Noah when they ducked under the crime scene tape, and Noah glanced at her curiously, "I..I can't. Not yet." She couldn't face Rachel or Blaine, not yet, because even if Noah had told her repeatedly that what happened was not her fault, it didn't make the feeling that it was go away, the guilt still gnawing at her. Noah nodded and Santana watched as he disappeared around the ambulance, Santana's eyes scanning the crowd of people gathered in the street and on the sidewalk, locating Brittany and Quinn sitting at the very end of the driveway, Quinn's head resting on Brittany's shoulder, their fingers laced together, someone having giving Quinn a blanket that was now draped over her hunched form. Santana joined them on the edge of the driveway, sitting on the opposite side of Quinn, both girls glancing in her direction, Brittany offering Santana a small sad smile, as Quinn scooted closer to Santana, Santana reaching out to take Quinn's other hand, squeezing it gently, as Quinn shifted to rest her head on Santana's shoulder, Santana tilting her own head slightly so that it rested on top of Quinn's.

* * *

Santana didn't know how long the three of them had been sitting on the cold concrete of the driveway, barely aware of the ambulance carrying Blaine and Rachel pulling away from the curb, vaguely remembering as Mrs. Pierce had told her that Mrs. Hummel, Finn and Noah were following the ambulance and would be at the hospital with the twins. Santana remembered nodding at her words, wanting to ask about herself and Quinn, what was going to happen to them, were they going to the hospital to meet Blaine and Rachel. She wanted to ask why were they still sitting here on the driveway, and ask if they would they be taken somewhere else. She felt the panic threaten to overwhelm her once again as she thought of being seperated from her siblings, terrified that by Rachel, Blaine and Noah going to the hospital they would be seperated. Brittany had leaned down in front of Santana when she heard how erratic Santana's breathing had become, soothing her and helping her breathing to return to normal, staving off the impending panic attack.

The next thing Santana became aware of was a young woman she didn't recognize with warm brown eyes and auburn hair, dressed casually in jeans, sneakers and a tee-shirt, kneeling in front of them. Santana didn't hear the woman's name, but she did hear that she was from social services and that she was there to help them.

"Are you here to take us away?" Quinn questioned the woman her voice childlike, speaking up when she saw that Santana was still struggling to form the words to ask the questions she wanted to ask, dread seeping into Quinn's bones as she studied the woman's face for any hint of deception.

"I am here to help you, to make sure you are safe." The woman told Quinn, smiling kindly at the young girl, who just nodded, her eyes once again falling to the ground.

"Make sure we're safe?" Santana questioned, scoffing, her voice harsh and angry as she glared at the woman, "That's not why you're here. You're here because our parents our dead, and you need to find somewhere to stick us, so you can say you did your job." Quinn glanced at Santana, her mouth set in a firm line as she shook her head, pleading with her eyes for Santana to shut up.

"Well yes, a part of why I am here is to make sure that we can find somewhere for you to stay, at least for the night." Santana knew then that this woman, this "social worker" had every intention of seperating them, even if it was just for the night.

"I want to go to the hospital," Santana demanded, climbing to her feet, pulling Quinn with her, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared at the woman in front of her, "I want to see my brothers and sister before you stick me in some crap ass group home or wherever the hell you plan on sticking me and Quinn for the night."

"Santana." Mrs. Pierce warned, placing a hand on Santana's shoulder and squeezing softly.

"Of course, we can go to the hospital and see your siblings," The woman said, her eyes meeting Santana's, "And I have no intention of placing any of you in a group home."

"You don't?" Santana asked genuine shock lacing her voice.

"No, group homes are a last resort, especially in..." The woman's voice trailing off, Santana knowing that she was going to say "in cases like this" and just rolled her eyes, because that's what they were now, a case, "We like to explore relative placements first. Do you girls have or know of any relatives that may be equipped to allow you and your siblings to stay with them for the night?" Quinn shook her head, glancing at Santana, wanting to see if Santana was going to mention their aunt, wanting to know if Santana's pride was going to win out over her desire to keep the family together, hoping that Santana would be able to swallow her pride.

"We have an aunt," Santana said, Quinn snapping her head in Santana's direction, and Quinn could feel both the weight of Mrs. Pierce's and Brittany's gazes on her as well, "Her name is Emma. Emma Pillsbury."

"Mrs. Pillsbury's your aunt?" Santana heard Brittany wonder aloud, but Santana ignored her.

She hadn't told anyone that she and her siblings were related to the quirky guidance counselor with the bambi eyes, having decided on her first day at McKinley High, that she would go out of her way to avoid and ignore Emma as much as possible, unable to contain her surprise when she spotted the woman in the hallway on the way to her first class, their eyes locking momentarily, Santana's eyes narrowing, as Emma's had widened in surprise. Santana hadn't spoken to or heard from the woman for nearly five years, hadn't even known that she had worked at the school, surprised that Noah hadn't told her but then she remembered that Noah had only attended school at McKinley for about a month before he was arrested, and sent away for nine months. Santana had sought Emma out after school that first day, had told the woman that she didn't want Emma to speak to her or Noah, that she didn't want to have any sort of relationship with Emma, ignoring the look of hurt that flashed on Emma's face at the harshness of Santana's voice, Santana cutting off any attempt by Emma to explain herself, allowing Emma to hand her a square of paper with her phone number written on it in her perfect penmanship before she stormed away from her. She had honestly considered throwing the scrap of paper in the first garbage can she saw, but chose instead to shove it in her pocket, entering the number in her cell phone as soon as she had gotten home. She had never used it and had intended to continue not to use it, only keeping it in her phone in case of emergency.

"Do you have her number?" The woman asked pulling Santana from her thoughts as she shook her head.

"No, it's in my cell, and that's in..." Santana said trailing off as she remembered that her cell phone had been in the front pocket of her pants, the pants that Noah had given to the crime scene technicians, surprised when she saw Brittany holding it out to her, offering the other girl a grateful smile, "Should I...do you..should I call her now?"

Santana could feel the nervous flutter in the pit of her stomach, fearful of what would happen if Emma refused to take them in. She was terrified of the rejection that she almost knew would come. She had been _so_ horrible to Emma the one time that Emma had tried to speak to her, to explain herself and then had spent the following two years ignoring her existence, ducking into the bathrooms when she was sent out of class to see the guidance counselor, grateful that her teachers had never seemed to follow up with Emma to see if she had actually seen Santana. Emma didn't owe Santana or her siblings anything, just because shared blood ran through their veins didn't mean that she would accept them, not when she had no reason to, no reason beyond the fact that they were her sister's children, no matter how incredibly close Santana and Noah had been with her before she had stopped contacting them, none of these things were reason enough to allow them into her home.

"Why don't we call her on our way to the hospital okay? We can ask her to meet us there." The woman said then, and Santana saw the white van with the word Medical Examiner printed in black block lettering on the side of it pull up to the curb, knowing that she was in a hurry to get them away from the house before they brought the bodies of Shelby and Hiram out in the black body bags that Santana had seen on TV numerous times, the hair on arms stood up as a shudder traveled up her spine, picturing them zipping her mother's body up into one of those bags.

Mrs. Pierce came to stand beside the auburn haired woman, blocking the large van from Santana's sight, having done that when she saw that both Santana and Quinn had suddenly stood stock still, eyes wide and blinking slowly as they stared at the van that had pulled up to the curb.

"Britt, can you drive my car to the hospital?" Santana asked, not wanting to leave her car at the house, not sure when she would be able to come back for it and needing the security of knowing that she had her own transportation. She had worked hard to gather enough money to pay for that car, even if it was an old, rusted Toyota Corolla with way too many miles on it, it was hers, purchased by her from Burt Hummel, and she was still making small installment payments on the car,it was one of the only possessions she had that she could bring with her.

"Santana, it's part of the crime scene. Brittany can't drive it to the hospital." Mrs. Pierce explained.

"Then can we at least see if we can get the duffel bags in my trunk and mine and Quinn's book bags out of it?" Santana asked and Mrs. Pierce nodded as she walked over to speak with one of the officers. Santana was embarrassed to admit this out loud to Mrs. Pierce or the social worker, having already had enough of her family secrets spilled that night, but she had kept a duffel bag for herself and each of her siblings in the trunk of her car for at least year just in case she needed to set up alternate sleeping arrangements for them unexpectedly, rotating the clothes out every so often, which she had just done a week ago.

She ended up having to explain this to them anyways when the officer refused to allow them to remove anything from the car without knowing what it was first, Santana turned and saw the social worker speaking with one of the men that had gotten of the Medical Examiner's van, no doubt requesting that they wait to remove Shelby and Hiram's bodies from the house until she was able to leave with Santana and Quinn. Mrs. Pierce and Brittany rejoined Santana and Quinn their arms weighted down with the amount of things they had gathered from Santana's car, both girls relieving them of their Cheerios duffels and book bags.

The social worker explained to Quinn and Santana that they would ride with her to the hospital, and that Brittany and Mrs. Pierce would follow in their own car, neither Quinn or Santana protesting these arrangements, Brittany hugging both girls tightly and unexpectedly before following her mom to their car.

"Do you think she'll take us?" Quinn asked softly once they were in the car, trying to sound nonchalant but Santana could hear the worry hidden under her forced nonchalance.

"I don't know. I hope so." Santana said truthfully, watching as Quinn sighed and slumped back against the car.

"I think she will." Quinn stated matter of fact, turning to rest her head against the window, Santana mirroring her position, as she fiddled with the phone that she was holding in her lap, scrolling through her contacts until Emma's name was highlighted, tears blurring her vision as she wondered what would happen to them if Emma did say no.

"I hope you're right." Santana sighed, as she allowed her eyes to close out of sheer exhaustion, her face pressed against the cool glass of the window, the gentle motion of the car as it moved through the familiar streets serving to soothe some of her anxiety. She felt Quinn's hand on hers, where it rested on the seat in between them, glancing at Quinn out of the corner of her eye, seeing that Quinn had her head resting against the window as well, as Santana turned her hand over, threading their fingers together and holding tight.

**Like it, hate it? Let me know. **


	5. Chapter 4

**Thank you to everyone who continues to read and review. I am definitely blown away by the response. This is definitely the longest chapter yet. Special thanks to beaner008 for letting me bounce ideas of her and giving me advice. **

**Trigger warnings: implied domestic violence, and graphic imagery. **

Blaine's first thoughts as he was placed on the cot in the exam room at the hospital, was that everything here was too bright and too loud, from the booming voices of the doctors he could hear down the hall, to the tinny sounds that were emitted from the TV speakers in the exam rooms, to the buzzing of the too bright over head lights and the beeping and whooshing of the machines he could hear in the distance. He watched silently as Rachel was rolled in on a stretcher and placed across the room from him. Her eyes were shut but he knew she wasn't sleeping because he could see the silent tears slipping down her cheeks behind closed lids, and he wanted to go to her, to lay next to her and tell her everything would be okay.

He had gotten to ride in an ambulance which would normally be pretty cool, but it wasn't now. Not when Rachel was hurt because he had let her get hurt, and she was scared and his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest, and the siren was too loud and all he wanted to do was cover his ears and shut it out. They had separated them and he had tried to fight it and tell them that he wasn't hurt but he couldn't get the words out around the tightness in his chest and the tears that he couldn't stop from falling. The paramedic had talked to him in a soft, soothing voice the whole way to the hospital but his words were drowned out by the siren and Blaine's thoughts, because he didn't know where Noah or Santana or Quinn were or if Rachel was still scared and crying and all he could see was Santana covered in blood, standing in the doorway of the closet, her face pale and hands shaking, and the red and blue lights that seemed to bounce of the houses around them, the bright yellow crime scene taped that was strung around the yard, and Quinn on her hands and knees in the grass, and men clad in blue police uniforms striding in and out of their house.

He studied Rachel intently for a few moments, trying to implore her to open her eyes and look at him, wanting to reassure her, but unable to form the words to call her attention to him, almost as if his voice had been left on the floor of the closet among Quinn and Santana's shoes, purses and clothing. His view of Rachel was soon blocked when doctors in white coats with too loud voices, and nurses in too bright scrubs with cartoon characters adorning them surrounded Rachel, blocking her from Blaine's line of sight. He could hear them asking her questions, see them shining lights in her eyes, and listening to her heartbeat. He could hear her sobbing then, even if he couldn't see her, he could hear her over their frantic voices, and the buzzing of the fluorescent lights over head.

"Stop it!" Blaine shouted, his voice shrill and panicked, when Rachel's sobbing became louder nearly drowning out the noise around them, pulling his fingers from his mouth for the first time since he had spoken to Noah, wiping them on the leg of his pants, his nose wrinkling when he shifted and felt the dampness of his jeans. The heads of everyone in the room snapped to him, almost as if they had forgotten he was there as well, as he pulled himself up to his full height, arms crossed on his chest and eyes narrowed in their direction, mimicking the look that he had seen his older siblings use so frequently, "Leave her alone! You're scaring her!"

A nurse in purple scrubs with bright yellow smiley faces adorning her shirt came over to him, crouching down in front of him as he glared hard at the stupid yellow smiley faces, wanting to tell her that it was stupid to have smiley faces on her clothes in a place full of sick people and that he hated them.

"I know this is scary, Blaine," She said crouching so she could meet his eyes but still tall enough to block his view of Rachel as his eyes snapped from the stupid smiley faces to her kind blue eyes, surprised that she knew his name, "We're here to help you and to help your sister."

"You aren't helping her!" Blaine said his voice nearly drowned out by the sound of Rachel's wails, he wanted to cringe and cover his ears to get away from the sound of Rachel's cries, her pleas causing his stomach to turn over, sounding too much like his mother's pleas for his dad to stop as he and Rachel sat curled on the floor of the closet. He jumped off the cot, shoving the nurse away from him, knocking her off balance slightly, in an attempt to get to Rachel, he needed to protect her. He _promised_ he would protect her and she shouldn't be screaming and crying and scared, not when he was there and he could fix it. He felt a pair of arms grab him around the waist tightly and he screamed savagely, kicking and struggling against whoever held him. He could hear the timbre of a soft soothing voice in his ear but all he saw was Rachel, Rachel surrounded by strangers, tears running down her pale cheeks, and all he heard was Rachel, Rachel sobbing for him, for their sisters and brother, for their mom and dad, and he fought harder because he needed to get to her, couldn't let anyone else hurt her.

"Let me go!" He shouted, his voice breaking as he strained against whoever was holding him, his breath coming in short, hard gasps as he felt the anger coursing through his body, "Get away from her! You're hurting her! Leave her alone!" He could hear the doctors and nurses murmuring too each other, or maybe they were shouting, their voices drowned out and muffled by the blood rushing in his ears and the sound of his screams so that they didn't sound as if they were speaking any louder than a whisper.

"Blaine!" He heard a stern female voice say next to his ear, and knew that it was the owner of the voice that was holding him and he fought harder against her, "You're scaring your sister, you need to calm down."

"No! You're hurting her!" Blaine shouted, but then he caught sight of Rachel, her face pale, tears pouring down her cheeks in twin streams, her hands pressed to her ears in order to block out his screams, as she sobbed and he went limp in the nurse's arms.

"I promise you we aren't hurting her, we're trying to help her." The nurse told him, her voice gentle and soothing, as he allowed it to wash over him and release some of the tension from his body. He nodded and allowed himself to be led back to the cot on the other side of the room, his chest heaving and heart pounding as he tried to calm down, his limbs trembling with exhaustion, his throat raw and sore from the force of his screams, his body covered in a light sheen of clammy sweat that made him shiver.

"I'm sorry." He murmured once he was able to speak again his voice coming out as a squeak. The sounds around him had dulled considerably and he couldn't make out what anyone was saying as they were all talking in hushed whispers to each other and not to him as they glanced at him warily. He scooted as far back as he could on the cot until his back was touching the wall, pulling his legs against his chest and wrapping his arms around them tightly, slightly embarrassed by his outburst.

"That's okay," The smiley face nurse told him, "Can you tell us what happened?" Blaine just shrugged in response because he didn't know what happened, he knew that Rachel hit her head and that his dad had been really mad and his mom had been crying and then Santana was there with blood on her pants and her shoes, and then there was blackness as she led him from the house, the smell of her floral scented perfume surrounding him from the scarf that was being used as an impromptu blindfold.

"She hit her head." He told her, his voice barely above a whisper, "And there was blood."

"Her head was bleeding?" She asked, and Blaine's eyebrows knit in confusion as he shook his head.

"No, Santana had blood on her pants and her shoes. Is she hurt? Where is she?" Blaine asked, his eyes shooting to her face, wide and panicked as he heart once again began to flutter in his chest. Santana could be hurt, she could be in one of these rooms, bleeding while nurses with smiley faces on their clothes and doctors with stern faces and harsh voices poked and prodded at her.

"Blaine, only you and Rachel were brought in, but I can go check for Santana after we finish talking, okay?" She told him, waiting for the small nod of his head. "Can you tell me how Rachel hit her head?"

"Dad pushed her, and then we ran." Blaine said shrugging, not missing the glances that were exchanged between the doctors and nurses. His dad was a doctor and he wondered if the doctors and nurses knew him or knew that he and Rachel were Hiram Berry's kids, maybe they knew where his dad was, Blaine hadn't seen either him or his mom, not even at their house.

"You're doing such a good job, Blaine. Did your dad hurt you?" She asked and Blaine shook his head.

"I-I fell on the stairs and bumped my knee, and I had an accident but I'm not hurt, not like her." Blaine murmured, his attention shooting to Rachel once again as they moved her into a wheelchair and began to wheel her from the room, "Where are you taking her? You can't take her!"

"Blaine, we have to take a picture of her brain, they will bring her right back, okay?" The nurse told him, but all Blaine could do was shake his head and push away from the wall, once again trying to climb from the cot. They couldn't take Rachel, he already didn't know where anyone was and he couldn't let them take Rachel too. He had to go with her, he had to make sure she was okay, it was his job to protect her, Noah and Santana had said it was his job.

"No, no, no. I have to go with her, I _have_ to." Blaine said frantically, an edge of hysteria creeping into his voice as he attempted to slide down from the cot only to have his movement restricted by the nurse and the male doctor he hadn't even noticed was standing there. "Please, please, please let me go with her."

His head was spinning, his vision growing fuzzy on the edges as his pleas turned silent while he struggled to take air into his lungs. He could hear the doctor and nurse talking to him but their voices sounded far away, muffled like he was underwater. He couldn't breathe, his eyes growing wide with the realization, the gray at the edge of his vision nearly overtaking him as he felt something slide down over his mouth and nose, his hands automatically coming up to tug at it, to pull it off his face, because it couldn't be there, he already couldn't breathe, it couldn't be there, he needed to get it off. The nurse and doctor were talking to him, but his chest hurt and his stomach and when he felt the first blast of air against his nose and mouth he was forced to suck in a breath. He continued to take in deep, gasping breaths, coughing intermittently as his chest loosened, and his vision cleared. He laid back on the cot, able to smell plastic now, knowing that the object that had been placed over his face was an oxygen mask, his head still spinning slightly, as his breathing returned to normal, his stomach cramping and twisting and turning violently and he was barely able to pull the mask from his face before he leaned over the edge of the bed, retching violently onto the floor, the doctor and nurse having to jump back in order to avoid the vomit that splattered on the floor.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Blaine whimpered when he had finished vomiting, staring at the mess on the floor, his eyes filling with tears as he scooted back on the mattress, trembling, tears filling his eyes as he pushed his body up against the wall, trying to make himself as small as possible, every muscle in his body tense as he stared at the doctor and nurse with wide fearful eyes as they did their best to reassure him, that it was okay, that things like that happened all the time. "I want my mom."

He saw the doctor and nurse exchange a look as they turned their backs to him. He could hear them whispering but he didn't know what they were whispering about and he couldn't hold back the sob that burst from his chest, his head and stomach hurt and he felt so sick, and he didn't know where anyone was and why they weren't here with him or Rachel, or where they had even taken Rachel and he just wanted his mom, he hadn't seen her before they left and he didn't know where she could be and why he didn't see her and he just wanted someone to explain everything to him. He wanted to be out of this too bright room and his too damp clothes.

He complied when the doctor sat him up to examine him briefly although he had told them that he wasn't hurt, watching as someone came up and began mopping up the mess at his feet and the nurse came back with a pair of too big sweatpants, that hung over the tops of his shoes, but were clean and dry, and even then he couldn't stop crying. The smiley face nurse was sitting next to him and rubbing gentle circles on his back, but he wanted to yell at her, scream at her and tell her he didn't want her, he wanted his mom, or Santana or Quinn or Noah, not her. But he couldn't do anything but bury his face in his hands and sob, as she rubbed his back and murmured to him. He glanced at the door every so often watching for Rachel to come back, because he needed to know that she was okay. He needed to know why no one was saying anything to him about his mom or his dad, and all he could hear were his mom's terrified screams over and over again, and he didn't know if she was hurt and if she was hurt why she wasn't here. The nurse had already assured him that Santana wasn't being examined and hadn't come to the hospital by ambulance but that didn't mean she wasn't hurt somewhere and just hadn't come yet.

"I wanna see my sister." He told the nurse, his voice thick with mucous and tears as he scrubbed at his face to clean it.

"They are still taking pictures of her head, Blaine, she'll be back soon." The nurse told him, and he shook his head.

"Not her, Santana, or Quinn or Noah. Are they here?" Blaine asked peering up at her through his eyelashes, just because they weren't hurt didn't mean that they weren't in waiting room, and they could explain everything to him, they could tell him what happened and why he and Rachel were alone.

"If the doctor says it's okay, I can take you to see if they are here."

"What about Rachel?" Blaine asked, wanting to see his older siblings but not wanting to leave Rachel alone, because he didn't want her to be scared, to think that Blaine had left her too, like their siblings and parents.

"She hurt her head pretty bad, so she will have to stay back here, so the doctor's can work on her." The nurse explained and Blaine nodded resolutely.

"Then I'll stay here. I don't want her to be by herself." Blaine explained and the nurse smiled softly, "But could you tell them I'm okay? That I'm looking out for Rachel?" The nurse nodded as she left the room.

Blaine watched her as she spoke to someone in the hallway before coming back in and sitting in the chair next to the cot he was perched on, watching as she turned on the small TV in front of him, it capturing his attention although his thoughts were far away and he still felt like he was on the floor of the closet, listening to his mom scream and Rachel cry, and not knowing what to do or how to help as he held Rachel's hand and covered his ear with his free hand trying to block out the sounds from below him. His fingers once again found their way into his mouth as he laid back on the cot, and tried to get lost in the adventures of Spongebob and Patrick that the nurse had somehow managed to find for him, even if it was too late for them to be on normally. He tried to drown out the sounds of the beeping machines, too loud voices and shoes squeaking on linoleum as people moved throughout the hallways, and ignore the sight of the stupid smiley faces on the nurse's scrubs that he still hated, as he waited for the squeak of the wheels and the clicking against the floor that would tell him that Rachel had come back from wherever they had taken her. He didn't notice his eyes growing heavy as his body relaxed, his breath evening out, shifting restlessly in an attempt to stay awake, eventually losing the battle to sleep as it pulled at the edge of his consciousness.

* * *

Emma Pillsbury doesn't normally get calls after nine o'clock ever. She is in bed with her phone turned off at precisely nine o'clock every night so she can make sure she gets at least eight hours of sleep and is up at exactly at five every day, but it's Friday, and Friday nights are date nights for her and Will and this Friday they went to a movie and didn't get home until nearly eleven. Emma was just finishing up her nightly regime, brushing her teeth for the second time when her phone rang. The number flashing on the screen of her phone was one she didn't recognize but receiving a phone call at eleven o'clock was strange enough that she answered with a pounding heart and sweaty palms because no phone call that late could mean anything good, her mind already in overdrive as all of the different possibilities began to flood through her consciousness.

She managed to push the thoughts that were threatening to overwhelm her out of her mind as she answered the phone, wincing at how breathy and quivery her voice sounded. She saw that Will was already sprawled out on his side of the bed and watched as he raised his eyebrows in questioning when she walked back into their bedroom, the phone pressed to her ear. She just ignored him as she focused on the sounds that were coming through the speaker of the phone, the sounds of wind rushing past an open window, the tinny noise of music on the radio threatening to drown out the female voice that spoke her name. Emma scrambled to place the woman's voice but found she was unable to.

"This is she, who is this?" Emma asked, grateful that her voice was a little stronger, sitting on the edge of the bed with her back to Will, unable to handle the intensity of his curious gaze.

"My name is Anna Jackson with the Department of Children and Families. I'm on my way to Lima Memorial Hospital with your nieces and nephews." Emma gripped the phone tighter, feeling the creak of the plastic in her hand, her heart dropping into her stomach as images of broken and injured children and terrified children flashed through her mind in rapid succession, causing her stomach to flip, as she thought about her sister as well, Shelby. She didn't talk about Shelby or even really mention her. She couldn't help but wonder where her sister was and why a social worker was calling her about her nieces and nephews. She saw Santana, Noah and Quinn every day but she never spoke to them, hadn't spoken to them in years, and had no idea why she would be the one that they would call for anything, not when she walked away from them, even if it hadn't been what she wanted to do, even if she had thought in some crazy way that by walking away she had been helping them.

"Are they-" Emma started to ask, wanting reassurance that the kids were okay, that Shelby was okay, and wondering where Hiram was, because there was no way Hiram would have _ever_ allowed her to be contacted for anything regarding his family.

"We need you to come to the hospital. Is that something you can do?" Emma just nodded, forgetting that she couldn't be seen by Ms. Jackson, so she let out a soft, quivery yes.

"Wait," Emma practically shouted before the other woman could hang up the phone, "Can I-Can I talk to them?" Emma listened to the rustle of the phone, the murmur of voices on the other line as the other woman held a conversation no doubt with one of the children.

"Emma?" She heard a soft voice say, one that she immediately recognized as Santana's, even if her voice was missing it's normal brashness, that Emma had heard it hold so often when she was snapping at other students in the hallways, "Are you coming?"

"Of course," Emma reassured the young girl, wanting to ask her what happened, where Shelby was, where Hiram was, but the soft, defeated quality of Santana's voice silenced the words that wanted to burst forth, "Are you okay?"

"No." Santana stated flatly, and Emma felt her heart once again begin throbbing in her chest, could hear the pounding in her ears as her chest constricted painfully, "Just come okay?" Before Emma could even force herself to reply, she heard the ringing of the dial tone, her hand dropping to her side, phone still clutched tightly in her grip as her head spun and her heart beat wildly, tears springing to her eyes as she tried to make sense of her thoughts. Santana's answer had done nothing to help her make sense of anything that was going on, or cleanse the earlier images of chaos and broken, bleeding bodies from her mind.

She shot to her feet when she felt Will reach for the phone that was still gripped tightly in her hand, pacing the bedroom frantically, mumbling to herself as she began to pull clothes out of the dresser, only stopping in her pacing when Will grabbed her shoulders, her wide frightened eyes coming to rest on his concerned and confused ones.

"Emma, what is going on? Who was that?" Will asked gently, unable to ignore the wet look in Emma's eyes that belied the beginning of tears, and the way she was trembling slightly, her hands coming to clasp in front of her as she rubbed them together.

"The hospital. I-I have to go to the hospital." Emma told Will, her voice robotic as she gazed into the distance. She couldn't deal with explaining everything to Will right now, not when she didn't know what was wrong, or what Santana's "no" had meant, or when her mind was still racing with all of the worst possible scenarios, and all she wanted was to get to the hospital.

"Are you sick?" Will asked, rolling his eyes at himself when he realized exactly how stupid that question was. Emma just shook her head and moved to get out of his grip, but he led her over to the bed, forcing her to sit on the edge of the bed as he kneeled in front of her, his hands on her thighs. "You need to breathe, Emma, okay?"

"No, Will, I need to go to the hospital," Emma snapped an edge of hysteria to her voice as she tried to push up from the bed, Will's hands restricting her movements, "Will, I really don't have time for this. They _need _me."

Emma could feel her panic threatening to swallow her, her breathing erratic as black spots flickered across her vision. Will finally relented when he saw just how panicked she was becoming, and she got to her feet once again rushing around the room as she pulled her clothes on, Will following suit.

"They who? Who was on the phone?" Will questioned as he pulled his jeans up his legs, reaching for the tee-shirt he had just discarded before pulling it over his head. Emma had ceased her frantic movements and was sitting on the edge of the bed lacing up the sneakers that she hardly ever wore.

"Santana." Emma told him.

"Lopez?!" Will asked incredously, "Why would she be calling you from the hospital?" Emma was already halfway down the stairs by the time he had regained his composure, and he rushed to follow her, reaching to take the keys off of the hook by the front door before she could.

"She's my niece." Emma stated simply and Will stopped in his tracks midway to the car, his mouth falling open in surprise as she motioned for him to hurry up and get in the car.

"What-how-what?" Will asked his words almost incoherent. He had had both Santana and Noah Lopez in his Spanish class and Emma had never once told him that she was related to them. He had never even see them speak to each other, not even a pacing glance in the halls or waved hello as they walked by her office.

"I have a sister, Shelby. She has five kids. Santana is one of them." Emma said, her voice short and clipped, almost impatient. She was unable to focus on anything other than getting to the hospital as quickly as possible. Will's questions were doing nothing to assuage her growing anxiety, and were only making her more anxious, unable to sit still, trying to remember the breathing techniques she had learned to combat her intrusive thoughts, and her thoughts were definitely intrusive in this moment, as she rubbed her hands together in an effort to calm herself, counting the number of times her palms rubbed against each other as she stared out the window.

"Why didn't you ever tell me? Why don't you ever talk to them? About them?" Will questioned, unable to refrain from asking, even as he watched Emma panicking in the seat beside him. He reached out and took one of her hands in his own, stroking his thumb over the back of her hand in an attempt to soothe her as her eyes snapped to study his face.

"My relationship with Shelby is...complicated." Emma said sighing as she searched for the best word to describe the complexities of her and Shelby's relationship. She found that there was no word, no real explanation as to why she had stayed away from her nieces and nephews for so long, or why she hadn't even attempted to speak to Santana, Noah or Quinn since each of the kids had begun school at McKinley beyond one conversation with Santana on Santana's first day at McKinley.

Santana had been so angry, her dark eyes flashing as she told Emma to stay away from her, from Noah, and that they didn't need her, and didn't want her around. Everything had happened so quickly that she didn't even have time to offer any sort of explanation to the younger girl for why she hadn't been around,at least not any explanation that wouldn't sound like an excuse. So all she had done was press a crinkled up paper that contained her phone number into Santana's hand before the girl had spun on her heel and stormed out of Emma's office. Emma had just assumed Santana had thrown her number away. Santana had been so angry at Emma, so different from the last time Emma had seen her, and she knew that something had changed in the girl's eyes. That something made Emma's blood run cold, and caused her to stay away. Not because she wanted to but because she had to, because she wasn't ready to deal with whatever had changed her niece, not ready to deal with the knowledge that she may have been able to prevent it if she had been there, if she had done something to help her, to help all of them.

Will seemed to accept her answer, squeezing her hand softly as they made their way through the familiar streets of Lima to the last place she ever expected to reconnect with her estranged nieces and nephews.

* * *

"_Aunt Emma?" Emma heard a small voice sniffle when she placed the phone to her ear. Emma recognized the voice immediately as that of her nine year old niece, Santana, her heart already picking up it's pace at the sound of the tears in the little girl's voice._

"_Santana? What's wrong?" Emma asked, already standing from her desk where she had been doing homework for her class the following morning, pulling her shoes on, as she listened to Santana sniffle pathetically._

"_Mom-mom's hurt, we are at the hospital in Bluffton." Santana told Emma, and Emma could tell from the way her normally fiery niece's voice shook that she was fighting off a fresh onslaught of tears. Bluffton was the next town over and with two hospitals locally she wasn't sure why her sister would have gone to the hospital in Bluffton, but she couldn't ignore the overwhelming feeling that Shelby's husband, Hiram had something to do with it. _

"_Okay, San, I'm on my way." Emma reassured the girl as she climbed into her car, "Who else is with you?"_

"_It's just me, Noah and Quinn. They said we had to call someone, they won't let us stay with her, but we can't stay here by ourselves. So I told them we'd call you."_

"_Where are Rachel and Blaine?" Emma wondered._

"_Hiram took them to the babysitter's," Santana said, "I can't talk anymore, but you're coming right?"_

"_Yes, San, I will be there in a few minutes." Emma told her. _

_Even as fast as she was going, it still took twenty minutes for Emma to pull into the emergency room parking lot of Bluffton Medical Center, practically sprinting from the car and to the entrance. It wasn't hard for her to spot her nieces and nephews once she entered the automatic doors into the emergency room lobby, her brain already firing with thoughts of how filthy everything was, how many germs lay in wait on every surface in the place, her skin crawling and palms itching with the urge to wash her hands in scalding water, already thinking of all the germs that had dropped onto her skin, clothes and hair from just entering the building._

_She fought the urge to rush to the bathroom, doing her best to ignore her pounding heart, spinning head and constricting chest as she made her way over to the children where they sat in the hard plastic chairs that were bolted to the tacky linoleum floor. They looked so small sitting in the waiting room of the emergency department, even if Noah and Santana had drawn themselves up to their full heights, glaring at anyone who dared to look at them or Quinn, who was in the seat between them, her head on Santana's shoulder, her eyes drooping closed every so often. The sight would have been laughable anywhere else because Noah at ten had not yet hit his growth spurt and Santana was naturally petite, the stern expressions looking so out of place on their young faces, but they themselves looked out of place sitting in the waiting room of the hospital. Emma's eyes fell on the few people who also sat in the emergency department, a middle age woman speaking rapid fire Spanish to the pale faced boy next to her who was clutching his arm and grimacing every so often, the obese elderly man who was sweating and coughing into a handkerchief, Emma's stomach flipping at the sight calculating just how many showers she would need to get the filth of the hospital out of her skin, contemplating throwing away the clothes she was wearing, not believing that laundry detergent and scalding water would get them clean enough._

_It was Quinn who spotted her first, climbing down from the hard plastic chair she sat on, ignoring Santana and Noah scolding her, as she ran to Emma throwing her arms around Emma's legs and squeezing tightly. Emma fought the cringe as she thought about just how many germs Quinn's tiny body was transferring onto her, running her fingers over Quinn's tousled blonde hair as she too deep breaths, reminding herself that she was here for them, that they needed her. Santana and Noah made their way over to her when they saw just who Quinn had started hugging, Noah crossing his arms over his chest, his lips pressed together in a thin line, as Santana attempted to coax Quinn away from Emma almost as if she could sense Emma's discomfort, knowing that little girl knew that sometimes Emma didn't like to be touched and that in a dirty hospital waiting room was definitely one of those places that Emma wouldn't want to be touched. Emma waved her off, shifting Quinn off of her legs so that she could crouch down and embrace Santana as well, still able to see the remnants of tears in Santana's red rimmed eyes, knowing that the girl would never admit to needing to or wanting comfort, but she relaxed in Emma's embrace sighing as she buried her face in Emma's shoulder. _

"_What happened?" Emma questioned softly once she led the children back to the row of hard plastic chairs as far away from the other patients as was possible. Quinn crawling onto her lap without preamble as soon as they sat, her cheek pressed against Emma's chest, and Noah and Santana flanked her on either side. _

"_She fell." Santana stated simply, Emma not unaware of the glance she shares with Noah or the glare she set on Quinn. Emma knew in that instant that her niece was lying. She looked at Noah then scrutinizing his features for anything, any tell that would have given him away but he remained stone faced, his gaze drawn to the muted TV above their heads._

"_Fell how?" Emma questioned, shifting uncomfortably as she tried to jostle Quinn's weight while avoiding touching any unnecessary surface of the chair. _

"_She slipped or tripped and hurt her arm." Santana said shrugging her thin shoulders lazily, but Emma could sense Santana's discomfort as she shifted uncomfortably under Emma's gaze._

"_Santana," Emma sighed, "Is that really what happened?"_

"_Yes." The young girl snapped facing away from Emma as she glowered at the TV, but not before Emma was able to notice the slightest bit of fear and panic in her eyes. Emma motioned for Quinn to move off of her lap before standing and gesturing for Quinn to take her vacated chair._

"_Where are you going?" Noah asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion as he spoke for the first time since she had arrived at the hospital. _

"_To see your mom." Emma stated simply, as she strode away from them and to the triage desk. _

_She exchanged a couple of words with the nurse behind the desk, before gesturing to the three wide-eyed children who were watching her every movement to stay there as she followed the nurse down the hallway to a room that was separated down the center by a thin curtain, the side closest to the door containing a young woman who was moaning in pain. Emma walked around the curtain and found Shelby sitting in the center of the cot, her eyes shut, her legs stretched out in front of her, her left arm propped up on a pillow in her lap, an ice pack draped across her wrist. Her eyes snapped open when she heard the squeak of Emma's shoes on the overly waxed floor, unable to school her face into a look of indifference before Emma was able to see the subtle widening of her eyes, and the slight look of shock that graced her delicate features._

"_What are you doing here?" Shelby asked slumping back onto the cot, her eyes closing wearily, as Emma made her way into the room, standing so her knees were bumping the edge of the cot, studying her older sister's face, the dark circles under her eyes, the way her foundation seemed heavier than usual, her cheekbones jutting out more sharply than normal, and she just sighed._

"_Santana called me."_

"_She shouldn't have done that. I'm fine." Shelby told her, her voice clipped and laced with annoyance._

"_You're in a hospital, you are clearly __**not **__fine and she's scared, they all are." Emma told her, gritting her teeth at Shelby's clear indifference to the fact that she was sitting in the emergency room in the middle of a Saturday afternoon, her three frightened children in the waiting room alone, "What happened?"_

"_Didn't the kids tell you?" Shelby asked._

"_They told me you fell. They're lying." Emma said, and Shelby's eyes snapped open, glaring at her younger sister._

"_That's what happened." Shelby told her fiercely. _

"_You and I both know that isn't what happened," Emma told her, "And did you get that from a fall as well?" Emma said gesturing to the slightly yellowed skin on Shelby's cheekbone that not even her heavy makeup was fully hiding. _

"_Don't." Shelby spat, "You don't know what you are talking about." _

"_Yes, I do. __**He**__ did this didn't he?" Emma asked harshly, referring to Shelby' s husband, Hiram. _

_Emma couldn't help but think of all the subtle changes she had noticed in her sister since she married Hiram two years ago, the excuses she made for Emma and her mother not to come to her house, the way that Hiram controlled every aspect of Shelby's life, from the way she dressed, to who she saw, to where she went, to having children. Shelby had been unsure about having anymore children when she and Hiram married so Emma had been genuinely surprised when Shelby got pregnant with Rachel and Blaine, and when she questioned Shelby about her pregnancy, Shelby had told her that Hiram had wanted children of his own, something to please his parents. She also noticed the too bright, strained smile Shelby wore whenever she saw her now, how much shorter her patience was with the older kids and how she seemed to display a detached indifference with the twins._

"_No one did this. I fell," Shelby hissed, her eyes flashing dangerous as she struggled to sit up, wincing when her movements jostled her arm, "Do you understand?"_

"_I understand that you're covering for him-"_

"_Stop it! Emma, just stop," Shelby exclaimed, "He is my husband. You can't just make accusations like that."_

"_Then why are you here, Shel?" Emma questioned her voice coming out as a hiss, holding up a hand to silence Shelby when she opened her mouth, "__**Don't**__ say you fell. And that's not what I meant anyways, I meant why are you in this hospital, here, in the next town over? Why not just go to Lima Memorial?"_

_Shelby seemed to deflate at Emma's question, her shoulders slumping slightly, her voice softer when Emma heard her answer with a soft, "I was embarrassed."_

"_Of falling?" Emma asked incredulously, "People fall all of the time, that's just stupid. Are you sure you weren't worried that one of your husband's colleagues might see you and ask questions?"_

"_Fuck you, you don't know what you're talking about. Hiram is my husband, he loves me." Shelby spat, and Emma rolled my eyes._

"_If he loved you he wouldn't be hurting you."Emma stated plainly._

"_I already told you I fell. I know you don't like Hiram, Em, but he is my husband, and until you can respect that, then I don't want you around, me or my kids." Shelby said ice in her voice as she glared at Emma, whose mouth had fallen open in surprise._

"_You can't be serious," Emma sputtered, "So if I can't keep my mouth shut and allow your husband to continue hurting you, then you don't want me in your life? And what if I refuse? What if I report what I know has been going on?"_

"_You wouldn't dare," Shelby said, her voice venomous, but her eyes fearful, and Emma just glared at Shelby in clear indication that she was not going to back down, not this time, not when she thought about the three children who sat in the waiting room, or the fear she saw in Santana's eyes, or how clingy Quinn was becoming and how angry Noah already was. The sisters came to a standstill then staring at each other tensely, waiting for one or the other to look away first, their stares only broken when the doctor walked back into the room, and Shelby spat a venomous get out at Emma, who nodded curtly, before striding out of the room._

Emma felt Will squeeze her hand gently once again and looked up to see that they were parked in front of Lima Memorial Hospital, her heart beginning to race as her stomach churned, not knowing what to expect when she walked through those doors. She glanced at Will who offered her a gentle but weak smile, as she drew in a deep breath before getting out of the car. She clutched at Will's hand so tightly she was sure she must be hurting him as they walked up the worn path to the ER doors, the sound of her sneakers thudding against the cement soothing her as she took one more steadying breath before entering the automatic doors that lead into the emergency department, knowing that no matter what she found out when she walked in, everything she knew or thought was about to change.

* * *

As soon as the social worker, Anna's, car came to a stop in the parking lot of the emergency department at Lima Memorial Hospital, Santana had thrown her door open and dragged Quinn out of the backseat, both girls still holding hands as they sprinted through the parking lot, ignoring Anna's shouts behind them. They rushed through the automatic doors, skidding to a stop on the slick linoleum when they saw Noah with Mrs. Hummel, Finn, Mrs. Pierce and Brittany sitting in a group of chairs furthest from the door. The emergency department was fairly empty for a Friday night. There were a group of young adults speaking to each other in the opposite corner, a young couple and their small daughter, and an older man emitting wet coughs every so often making up the remainder of the patients. Santana scanned the waiting room quickly looking for the telltale curly hair of her youngest brother but was unable to locate him, turning her dark eyes on Noah.

"Where is Blaine?" Santana questioned, her brow knitted in confusion.

"Dunno. They told us they needed to examine him and Rachel." Noah said shrugging and Santana dropped Quinn's hand in frustration.

"Why aren't you with them?" Santana asked a hint of annoyance in her voice. She couldn't believe that her younger siblings were somewhere being examined by themselves. They had been so scared and they were both so little and they probably had no idea what was going on. She could imagine them crying out for her, for Noah, for Quinn, not knowing why they weren't there, why they were alone. Before Noah could even answer her, she spun on her heel, stalking to the triage desk, shaking off the hand that Quinn attempted to lay on her arm to stop her movements, and ignoring Mrs. Pierce and Mrs. Hudson scolding her. She saw through the large plate glass window that Anna was standing at the entrance of the ER speaking with a police officer and seeing as the woman was otherwise occupied. The nurse at the triage desk was on the phone and otherwise engaged so Santana slapped the wood of the desk a few times repeatedly to get her attention, the woman turning to her with an almost bored expression that made Santana's fists clench, because how could she look so unaffected when Santana felt like she was on the verge of exploding.

"I need to know where my little brother and sister are, and I need to see them." Santana demanded, and the nurse just rolled her eyes at the obviously distraught girl in front of her, and Santana clenched her fists hard enough that she could feel her nails biting into her soft, fleshy palms, as she fought the urge to either scream at or hit the woman in front of her. She felt like everything was spinning to quickly around her, her heart was beating too fast and too loudly, her blood rushing too quickly in her veins as the anger threatened to overpower her, the only thing keeping her grounded was the feel of her nails digging into her palms.

"Are you eighteen?" The woman asked, and it was Santana's turn to roll her eyes.

"What does that matter?" Santana scoffed, "I need to see them and I need to see them _now_." Santana saw that Anna had entered the ER and was hovering just at the edges of her vision, and Santana wasted no time shooting a glare in her direction, a silent message for the social worker to stay away from her.

"You have to be eighteen to go to the exam rooms unattended." The woman said, and Anna took that opportunity to come closer to Santana, saying her name in an attempt to get her attention, treating Santana like she was a powder keg that was just waiting for the spark to ignite it's fuse.

"That's bullshit!" Santana shouted, bringing her palm down hard on the wood of the desk, ignoring the stinging pain that shot through her palm, "They are just little kids, they _need_ me! They _need_ someone! You _will _take me to see them."

"I can't do that, miss, and if you don't sit down and calm down, I will be forced to call security." The woman told Santana, and Santana growled, prepared to launch herself over the desk at the woman, because the woman didn't understand, she didn't understand that her mother was dead and her stepfather and that Blaine and Rachel were probably in an exam room somewhere terrified thinking that she had abandoned them, that they all had.

"Santana." She heard Anna say from somewhere nearby, breaking her gaze with the woman behind the desk as she spun to face Anna, "You need to calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down." Santana said her voice tight and forceful, "Rachel and Blaine are by themselves! She's hurt and he's scared and they're alone! So don't you _dare _tell me to calm down! Not now! Not today! I _will _see them, whether or not you take me."

Noah had moved closer to Santana during her very loud discussion with the two woman, watching as his sister clenched and unclenched her fists, how the muscle in her jaw was jumping every so often from the force of which she had clenched her jaw, knowing that she was _thisclose_ to losing control, and wanting to be there to grab her when she did, standing just over her left shoulder as he watched her confrontation with the redheaded woman in front of her and the slightly overweight woman with the bored eyes behind the desk, noticing that a police officer had also come to stand closer to the redheaded woman.

"And how do you think they would feel if they saw you like this?" Anna questioned the young girl before her, whose eyes were smoldering, watching as she fought to maintain control, "They are already scared and do you think them seeing you like this would make them less scared?"

"I. Don't. Care." Santana said enunciating every word, "At least they would know that I'm here, that I didn't leave them."

"I understand that, Santana but they need to see you in control of your emotions. I know how much you care for them, but you need to calm down before you see them, you cannot see them when you are like this." Anna reiterated.

"I would never do anything to scare them." Santana told her, and Anna nodded.

"I know you wouldn't mean to, but seeing you this angry _would_ scare them." Anna told her, watching as Santana deflated slightly. Santana knew that she was right, even if she didn't want to admit that to the woman in front of her. But she remembered seeing Rachel flinch away from her this morning when she had playfully threatened to hit her with a pillow and how Blaine sometimes cowered when they were too loud, even if they were arguing playfully and knew that if she rushed into the exam room, on edge with anger bubbling in her veins, they wouldn't be able to handle. They wouldn't have been able to handle it early today, but they especially wouldn't have been able to handle it after what happened that night.

"Fine. Whatever." Santana said, breathing deeply in an attempt to slow her racing heart, "But you will take me to see them."

"As soon as I can, I will." Anna told her, and Santana's eyes narrowed at the woman as she turned to join the rest of her family and their friends, Noah reaching for her, but she pulled her arm away from him when he touched it, wrapping her arms around her middle as if she was hugging herself before slumping in a chair beside Quinn, shooting Brittany a look and shaking her head when the other girl made a move to get up and come sit beside her. She allowed Quinn to take her hand once again, knowing that Quinn needed the physical reassurance of Santana's hand in hers, to keep her grounded, to keep her in the moment. Noah slumped down on the other side of Santana, his jaw clenched just as tightly as hers, glancing up at the clock in front of them.

"They'll be okay, San." Quinn murmured from beside her, trying to reassure herself as much as she was trying to reassure Santana. Her own mind was racing as she thought of her smallest siblings by themselves, being poked and prodded by doctors, remembering the bruises she saw on Rachel that afternoon, and wondering if Blaine sported similar bruises, wondering if they would be honest and tell the doctor how they got there or if they would try to cover for their father. Not that it really mattered now, not when her mom and Hiram were both dead and all Quinn could see was her mother laying in the center of the living room covered in so much blood that Quinn couldn't believe it had all come from one person and Hiram slumped against the wall across from her, his chin resting on his chest, the right side of his forehead a mess of blood, his skull sunken in unnaturally, blood covering the wall he rested against. Quinn felt her stomach flip at the memory, swallowing thickly against the bile that was burning her throat as she forced it back into her stomach, ignoring the concern in Santana's dark eyes as she glanced over at her.

"You don't know that." Santana whispered fiercely, and all Quinn could do was nod and shrug because Santana was right. Quinn remembered watching as Santana emerged from the house, blood covering the lower half of her body, Rachel in her arms, and Blaine clinging to Santana's hand and one of the only clean spots on her pant leg, a turquoise scarf pulled across his eyes, protecting him from the sight that had greeted her when she had walked into the house. Her knees had threatened to collapse then and she had had to turn from the sight of her sister covered in the blood of her mother and Hiram, of the innocent questioning in Blaine's eyes and Rachel's fragile form in Santana's arms, before falling into the damp grass, the blades of grass itching at her knees and at her palms, her stomach muscles burning painfully as she retched, the sight of her mother's and Hiram's bodies still burning behind her eyes. Quinn found that her eyes fell to Santana's hand in her own, studying it for any of the traces of blood that had coated it only hours before but saw that it was clean.

"They're tough, Santana, they'll be okay." Quinn said again, squeezing her sister's hand and Santana looked at her then, her dark eyes marred with exhaustion, rimmed with the bruises that came from lack of sleep, tears brimming within them as she nodded, blinking as one tear slid down her cheek, before Santana brushed it away with the hand not holding Quinn's, turning from Quinn as she stared at the clock on the wall. Quinn just squeezed Santana's hand gently once more, trying to comfort her sister, who didn't like to be comforted.

Santana didn't know how long she stared at the clock, watching the movement of the hands mindlessly, imagining the sound of the ticking in her head, drowning out the noise around her, her leg bouncing anxiously, as she alternated her gaze from the clock to the heavy wooden door that led back to the exam rooms waiting for any sign of Blaine or Rachel. She saw that Anna continued to hover near the triage desk, alternating between watching her and her siblings and watching the automatic doors. Santana knew that she was watching for any sign of Emma. Santana could feel the gazes of the doctors and nurses who passed through the waiting room falling on them every so often, could almost feel the pity in their eyes as they gazed at them. She could almost hear the whispers of what Hiram Berry had done and those poor kids and we should have known, and how didn't we know, and how could he do something like this. Santana wanted to shout at them, to tell them to shut up, that they were thinking to loudly and that they were right, they should have known, that they were doctors and nurses and how could they not have known that something was off about Hiram.

Santana's gaze flickered to the entrance when she heard the soft whoosh of the door opening after an indeterminate amount of time, straightening her spine and pausing the movement of her legs as she watched the petite redhead woman and the curly haired man enter the ER. Emma and Mr. Schuester, of course, Santana thought, unable to keep the wry smile from gracing her features or her eyes from rolling. She had heard the rumors at the school, had seen Emma watching him with a stupid lovesick expression the few times that she had actually glanced in Emma's direction while they were in the same corridor or when Santana was near her office. Santana watched as Emma and Will approached Anna and the police officer, startled slightly when she felt Noah spring to his feet as he stormed over to where Emma and Will were speaking with Anna in hushed tones, Santana unable to hear what they were saying.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" Noah shouted and she felt Quinn jump next to her, their hands coming apart at the forceful jerk of Quinn's movements as Santana got to her feet practically running over to them, Emma had spun to face Noah, her eyes wide in her pale face, and Will had stepped closer to her and half in front of her, in a show of protection. Santana watched as Emma's mouth worked to form words. Santana could see the fury in Noah's eyes as soon as she approached him, his hands balled into fists at his sides, his feet squared.

"Noah." Santana breathed from behind him and he spun on her, Santana recoiling slightly at the look in his eyes, putting distance between herself and her brother.

"What the hell is she doing here, San?" Noah questioned his voice laced with venom and anger as Santana looked down at the toes of her slightly dirty sneakers where they rested on the ugly flecked linoleum, shrugging. She knew she should've told him, knew exactly how Noah felt about Emma, exactly how she herself felt about Emma, but there hadn't been time between her panic about Rachel and Blaine and her hypervigiliance she hadn't thought to tell him, and it's not like she had any other choice but to call her.

"I-I called her." Santana told Noah shrugging, meeting his eyes as they widened slightly in surprise before narrowing in anger as he let out a frustrated groan.

"Fuck this." Noah spat before striding through the hospital door, unable to look at his sister any longer, because she _knew_ how he felt about Emma, how she had abandoned them and how she was the last person he ever wanted to have to deal with outside of school and she had called her anyways.

Santana stood frozen as she watched Noah leave, her vision blurring with tears as she watched him leave. She glanced at Emma, her eyes narrowing at the woman who leaned against the triage desk, her hands trembling slightly, her eyes wide. Mr. Schuester had deflated with Noah's exit from the hospital as well, taking one of Emma's shaking hands in his own and Anna had rushed to the doors, attempting to call after Noah as he stormed out, kicking at the potted plant that stood next to the door. Santana's legs cooperated then as she practically ran through the doors, following the path that she had seen Noah take, needing to explain everything to him, needing him to understand why she had done what she had done, and just needing him, because she didn't know how she was going to do any of this without him. She didn't know how she would be able to face Rachel and Blaine with the memory of her mother and Hiram's body burned into her conscious, with the knowledge that they had been hiding in the closet while their father killed their mother and then himself, or how she would even explain any of it to them in a way that they would understand, but she wouldn't be able to do any of those things without Noah. So she followed him hoping that he would listen to her when she finally caught up to him.

**Love it, hate it. Let me know what you think. :)**


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait between chapters I had some real life stuff come up. It may be another week or so before I am able to update. A big thank you to Beaner008 for helping me focus and keeping me motivated, this chapter may have taken much longer if it hadn't been for all of her help. Also, thank you for all the reviews, follows and favorite. Trigger warnings for depictions of child abuse and domestic violence. Also, allusions to sexual abuse and a violent crime. Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. **

Emma let out a breath she hadn't even realized she had been holding as she watched Noah and Santana storm out of the automatic doors. Her heart rate slowed and returned to normal as she slumped against the triage desk, watching Anna call after the older children. She could feel the weight of Will's gaze on her and knew if she was to turn to him, she would see the questions in his eyes and she didn't have any answers to any of them. She had expected them to be angry, and knew that she deserved it. However, she hadn't been prepared for just how explosive Noah's temper was. She had heard about it at school, whispers in the hallway of him being arrested for battery, suspensions for fighting and with as angry as she knew they all were with her, she had only gotten some glares and rolled eyes mostly from Santana, Noah seemed to go out of his way to avoid her and Quinn regarding her with a mixture of curiosity and indifference, much like the way she was looking at Emma now from across the waiting room, sandwiched in between Brittany Pierce and a woman she recognized as Brittany's mother.

When Noah had first advanced on her, her heart had frozen in her chest and she wondered if she had made the right decision in coming here, if they even really wanted her to be there, but then Santana was there, her voice softer than Emma had ever heard it, and her dark eyes almost haunted as she tried to calm her brother before he barked at her and stormed through the automatic doors. Emma had watched as Santana had deflated, her face falling. She had wanted to go to the girl, to say something, to do something besides gawk at the broken girl in front of her. However, she didn't know this girl, because even though she saw her nearly every day, she didn't really know anything about her. She didn't know how to comfort her and she didn't know what caused the broken look in her eyes. She watched as Santana rebuilt whatever walls had fallen after Noah's harsh words before turning on her heels and tearing out of the emergency room in pursuit of her brother.

Emma's stomach had churned uncomfortably and nearly bottomed out when the realization settled on her that there weren't two smaller dark haired figures with Quinn where she sat, and that her sister was also absent from the waiting room. Emma hadn't really expected to see Shelby there, not after getting called to the hospital in the middle of the night. Emma was fighting the urge to rush over to Quinn, to ask her what happened, where Blaine and Rachel were, or where Shelby was, but she wasn't quite sure she was ready to hear the answers to any of her questions. Not when she could see that Santana and Quinn had the same haunted look deep in their eyes and Noah was so angry and all she could feel was the fear that was making her heart race and cold sweat break out across her skin as she thought about what could have possibly put that look in the girls' eyes, and what could have possibly happened that made Noah angrier than she had ever seen him.

"Ms. Pillsbury, can we speak with you for a moment?" Anna asked, startling Emma from her thoughts.

Emma nodded, her mouth running dry, blindly searching for Will's hand and gripping it tightly all thoughts of germ transmission that would normally have her skin crawling flying from her mind as she saw that Anna was now flanked by two police officers. She could no longer ignore the questions she wasn't sure she wanted answered as she followed Anna and the police officers down a narrow hallway into a small, white room with a flowered couch pushed against one wall, a small end table next to it, with a pink lamp on it, emitting a soft glow that was so different than the harsh fluorescent lights of the waiting room. Her eyes settled on the box of tissues that was resting in the center of the couch, her heart skipping slightly as she realized this had to be one of the rooms they used to tell family members bad news and she was unable to avoid the overwhelming feeling of claustrophobia that overcame her when the door was shut behind them. Anna gestured for her and Will to sit on the couch but she shook her head vehemently, because although the couch was clean enough there was no way to see what teemed on it that was invisible to the naked eye, that thought alone causing her to shudder, as she began to wring her hands anxiously.

"Can someone please tell me what is going on?" Emma questioned an urgency to her voice that even she was surprised by. The two officers introduced themselves as Detective Wright and Detective Lowe, and Emma still didn't know why there were police officers here, or even why Anna was here and all she could do was grip Will's hand tighter.

"Ms. Pillsbury," Anna started and Emma told her to just call her by her first name, because Ms. Pillsbury was for the school and her glass walled guidance office and she was nowhere near there now, she wasn't a professional in this moment and she was doing her best just to not fall apart, "There was an incident tonight."

"What-what kind of incident?" Emma stammered, focusing on the tacky flowers that adorned the couch because she couldn't look in the eyes of anyone else in the room and see the sympathy or pity that she knew would be there. Anna was talking again and all she heard was "Shelby" and "murdered" and "Hiram" and "suicide" and it was like everything went completely blank and all she could hear was a buzzing in her ears. She could see Anna's mouth moving, and could feel her heart pounding and her head spinning but all she kept hearing over and over again was that Hiram killed Shelby and then himself and "Oh god I think I'm going to be sick."

She clamped one hand over her mouth as Will thrust a plastic trash can into her hands and she sank down on the couch all concerns for germs and contamination fleeing her mind as she took deep breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth in order to calm her raging stomach, because she didn't want to be sick, not here, not in front of these strangers. After a few minutes of deep breathing, she felt her stomach settle slightly and she placed the trash can on the floor near her feet, not looking up from the floor.

"Dead?" She repeated incredulously, like she needed the confirmation of the words that wouldn't stop running through her mind, still feeling as if this was some bad dream that she would wake up from. Shelby couldn't be dead, she just couldn't be, not _like_ that, not when those kids still needed a mother. How could Hiram have done something like this? Her heart started pounding even more furiously in her chest and she felt like her chest could cave in at any moment, her throat tightening and all she saw was the haunted look in Quinn and Santana's eyes, the fury in Noah's, that was so like the fury in his mother's the last time they had seen each other, and now Shelby was dead and oh God the kids, were they there, did they see?

"What about the kids? Were they there?" Emma asked frantically, she was on her feet now pacing the small room, she couldn't imagine the children being there when it happened, watching their father murder their mother, or finding them. How would they ever get over something like that?

"The younger two, Blaine and Rachel, were home during the incident and we believe that the older girls, Quinn and Santana were the ones who discovered the bodies, but we'll know more once we speak with them." Detective Lowe explained. Emma sank down onto the couch once again, pushing Will away when he tried to put an arm around her shoulder, because he couldn't touch her right now, not when her grip on everything was still so fragile and she couldn't afford to fall apart, not right now, not when she knew that those kids needed her.

"Tonight? Do you have to interview them tonight?" Emma questioned incredulously, not knowing how they could expect any of the kids to answer questions about their parents deaths.

"Unfortunately they need to be interviewed tonight." Detective Lowe explained and all Emma could do was shake her head in response. None of this seemed real, it didn't seem real that she was sitting in this small room that felt like it was getting smaller every second listening to two detectives and a social worker tell her that her sister was dead, that they had to interview her nieces and nephews because they were there or they found them and nothing made sense anymore, because children aren't supposed to see or hear things like that, knowing that in that moment their whole lives had changed, and she didn't know what she was supposed to do, how she would even be able to help them.

"And then what? What happens then?" Emma questioned, wringing her hands together in her lap nervously.

She listened as Anna explained that Quinn and Santana would need to be examined and medically cleared and that the younger children would also need to be medically cleared as well. Emma's mouth ran dry, her heart pounding in her chest when Anna asked if she was willing to allow the children to be placed with her and Will. She found that all she could do was nod unable to form the words to answer the question. She had screwed up so badly by walking away from them, by walking away from her sister and this was her chance to begin to fix all of that, and she needed to do this. She hadn't even considered that Will may be reluctant to agree to this plan because they had their life, one that didn't involve five traumatized children that most likely _hated _her, if Santana's speech to her three years ago was anything to go by but her heart swelled when she heard him answer yes without hesitation, taking her hand in his own and squeezing softly. So maybe none of this felt real, and maybe she had no idea what she was doing but at least she had him and they could figure out the rest together.

* * *

Noah could hear the sound of sneakers slapping the pavement behind him as he stormed away from the hospital. He didn't need to turn around to know that person following him was Santana. He didn't slow down his pace with his realization, even if he had no idea where he was going, only knowing that he needed to be as far away from the hospital, as far away from Emma as possible. He couldn't believe that Santana would call her now, not after they had needed her for the last seven years and she hadn't been there, not when they saw her in school every day and she hadn't once thought to talk to them, to ask them anything. He didn't even know why she would bother pretending to care now, not when she had known what was happening and had still walked away from them. She had left Noah and Santana to protect themselves and their siblings from Hiram and from Shelby. His forward momentum was halted when he felt a shove from behind him, hard enough to get his attention but not hard enough for him to lose his balance.

"What the fuck? What is your problem?" He spat, spinning around, his hands automatically clenching at his sides as he faced Santana. He saw that Santana's eyes were narrowed and flashing dangerously. However, under all the bravado and anger, he could see the fear that had her hands trembling at her sides, and had her chewing at her lower lip as she glared at him.

"My problem? Are you fucking kidding me? My problem is you. It's you always walking away when we need you." Santana spat, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared up at her brother, fire burning deep in her eyes. They were nearly toe to toe now and she could feel the anger coursing through her veins. Her heartbeat had begun pounding in her chest and it felt good, it felt good to feel anything other than fear, and her fear had disappeared with first few drops of anger. She was so tired of this, tired of watching Noah run away when he couldn't deal. Sometimes she couldn't deal either but she didn't have a choice because he was never there, he hadn't been there in years.

"Fuck you, Santana. I can't deal with this right now." Noah said blowing out a breathe as he turned and walked away from her.

He couldn't deal with this, any of this, not when his heart was pounding so furiously in his chest that he was afraid that it might burst from his chest at any moment, and he felt wound so tight that all it would take was the slightest nudge to push him over the edge. He knew Santana would be that nudge, because this is what they did. They screamed and fought and pushed each other, but he couldn't do that with her tonight, not when he felt like this, not when every cell in his body was telling him to either scream or hit something. He knew that after tonight everyone would know just how useless Noah himself was and how he had done nothing to protect them, to help them. He had just stood by and watched as his younger sister had desperately tried to keep everything together, to keep them together. He remembered how she had plead with him to stay until one day she had just stopped, tired of watching him walk away from them, from her.

He knew that he had left the moment that the cold metal of the handcuffs closed around his wrists and he was led from his house to the sounds of Santana and Quinn's pleading with Hiram, with Shelby to do something even as Noah hissed at them to shut up. He knew that their pleading would only make things worse, even if he had barely been able to contain his own anger at his mother's indifference and inaction. He had learned to hate his mother that night as she watched him be led to a police car, her face expressionless. He hated her for bringing Hiram into their lives, for letting him be arrested when all he had been doing was trying to protect her, to protect all of them. It was also in that moment that he realized how he had failed them. He was supposed to protect them, and he had failed at that the moment his fist connected with Hiram's cheek.

Noah's movement was halted once again when Santana came to a stop in front of him, pressing her hands to his chest gently but firmly in an attempt to get him to stop. He could feel the way her hands were trembling slightly even as she tried to hold them steady.

"Noah please." Santana implored in a such a soft voice that Noah felt the tension relax from his body, his posture slumping. Santana pulled her hands from his chest, when she was satisfied that he wasn't going to continue walking, crossing her arms over her abdomen giving her the appearance that she was hugging herself, as she looked anywhere but at him. He was struck by how small she looked as she stood in front of him. Her head was bowed as she stared at her feet where she scuffed her white tennis shoe against the crack in the sidewalk, biting at her lip anxiously. She hadn't seemed this small to him since she was fourteen and was clutching at his arm as he crawled out of his window, begging him to stay as the sounds of breaking glass and screaming filled the house.

"Why did you call her?" Noah asked, leaning against the pole at his back. Santana's eyes snapped to meet his, blinking rapidly but not before he was able to see the tears that pooled in them only moments before.

"I-I didn't know what else to do and there wasn't anyone else to call." Santana explained shrugging, watching as Noah's expression hardened once again. She hadn't thought of him when she made the decision to call Emma, she hadn't thought of anything really outside of needing to figure out a way for them all to stay together, because they couldn't lose each other as well. "I did this for us, Noah."

"How is calling someone who abandoned us doing something for us? Or did you forget that? Did you forget that she walked away from _us_?" Noah hissed.

"Of course I didn't." Santana snapped, looking away from him once again, dropping her arms to her side as her hands clenched involuntarily. She didn't know what words her brother was looking for to explain her sudden change of heart regarding their aunt. She had spent such a long time being angry with Emma, hating Emma, and she just couldn't. She couldn't hate her now, not in this moment, not when she was the only thing standing between them and being separated. She needed Noah to understand that. She just needed him.

"Why didn't you talk to me San before you called her?" Noah asked, "If you need me, then why didn't you talk to me?" He saw her flinch as he threw her earlier words back at her. His heart clenched at the fleeting look of hurt that passed over her features, before she looked at him again with a blank, emotionless expression, even as her eyes continued to betray her actual feelings.

"It wouldn't have mattered, Noah, okay? It was either her or foster care." Santana spat, her dark eyes flashing as they met his hazel ones.

"I-I can't do this, Santana." Noah told her. He watched as her face fell, tears brimming in her eyes once again as her posture sagged, her hands clutching at her shirt where they rested on her hips as if she was physically trying to hold herself together.

"What does that mean, Noah?" Santana asked her voice tremulous and laced with fear. Noah's mouth worked uselessly as he tried to form the words to explain himself to Santana.

He didn't really know what he meant, all he knew is that he felt too full to deal with anything else that night. He could still feel the anger simmering just below the surface and he had spent too long hating Emma, being angry at Emma, that it was impossible to just let it go, not when it was tied so closely to his anger at himself. Because as angry as he had been, and would probably always be at Emma for abandoning them, for walking away from them. Even when she knew what was going on, he was just the same. He had done the same thing. He had abandoned his siblings when they needed him, when he knew that his mom and Hiram spent a portion of every night yelling and screaming at each other. He knew that Santana had never known how to keep her mouth shut which led her to be on the receiving end of more than a few harsh words and sometimes even harsher blows. He had come home after being out all night and had found her nursing bruises or cuts, her dark eyes always pleading with him to stay, to do something, but he never did. He knew that he was no better than Emma, but hating her, blaming her was so much easier than hating himself.

"I need time, San, okay?" Noah explained. He watched as Santana gave up on trying to keep herself upright sitting on the curb, her back turned to him.

"I-I don't know what I am doing," Santana said in a whisper, her voice breaking on the last word, as Noah crossed over to sit next to her, "I don't know how to do any of this, Noah, and I don't like having to turn to Emma anymore than you do, but what else can we do? We're all we have now, and-and I can't lose them or you and-and-"

"Santana," Noah said, silencing her, "You aren't going to lose me or them."

"Then why does it feel like I already have? I-I can't do this by myself, and you said we would figure this out together, and I can't do this alone, mom's dead, Noah and how-how am I supposed to tell them that? How am I supposed to explain to them how she died or how Hiram died or where you are?" Santana questioned. Her voice grew more frantic and more hysterical with each question she asked. Her breathing had sped up and she felt as if her chest was suddenly to tight, because everything was just too much. She just needed it all to stop, and she needed her big brother to be her big brother again. She pressed her hands to her eyes roughly in an attempt to keep the tears from falling and to give her something to focus on other than the pain in her chest and her rapidly beating heart.

"San," Noah said, pulling her hands away from her eyes, unable to ignore the single tear that slid down her cheek when he did, his thumb coming up to brush it off her cheek, "Listen to me, you haven't lost me, and we are in this together, I promise. I just need tonight okay? I need some space."

"Santana, Noah," Noah heard from beside them, craning his neck to see Anna standing near the entrance of the emergency room, arms folded over her chest. Noah rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to Santana, who had swatted his hands away from her face and was wiping at her eyes. "We need you to come inside."

"Whatever." Santana said to Noah, sighing and shrugging, crossing her arms over her chest, as she stood ramrod straight before turning on her heel and walking back towards the waiting room. She could hear Noah's heavy footfalls behind her, but she didn't turn to him. She wouldn't continue to beg him to stay, she wouldn't continue to tell him how much she needed him around. He knew that and he was still choosing to be somewhere else, and she couldn't understand it.

"I'm sorry." Noah whispered and even though Santana didn't turn and acknowledge him, he knew from the slight falter in her steps that she had heard him.

He didn't even really know what he was apologizing for if he was just apologizing for that night, for needing space or for having spent so much time not being there or that he never realized how much Santana needed him to be there. He knew he needed to do a lot more to apologize than just say a few words, but he couldn't do that tonight. He needed to be away from the hospital, away from Emma if he wanted to keep his anger from boiling over. He needed to be away from them because he couldn't get the sound of Blaine and Rachel's broken sobbing out of his mind or the haunted look in Quinn's eyes or forget the dampness of Santana's blood stained clothing in his hands or the way he had checked and re-checked his hands almost positive that some of the blood from her clothing had transferred and even after he saw it hadn't he still hadn't been able to stop wiping his palms on his jeans. He should have been there. He was supposed to be the "big brother". He was supposed to protect them and now they were broken, and he didn't know if he could fix them or if this was even something that could be fixed.

"Hey man." Finn said when Noah slumped down in the chair beside him and all Noah did was nod his head in acknowledgement his eyes still trained on his sisters.

Santana was arguing with Emma and Anna about something and demanding to see Rachel and Blaine. He could hear the almost hysterical edge to her voice and knew that she was fighting to keep herself under control. He could see Quinn flinching ever so slightly when Santana raised her voice, having backed away from her enraged sister, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over her chest, eyes downcast as if she was trying to make herself as small as possible.

"So can I stay with you tonight?" Noah asked Finn. He saw that Santana had visibly deflated and was talking in more hushed voice but he could still see that her hands were balled in fists and she was tapping one foot against the ground. He watched as they were both led through the large wooden door that led to the belly of the emergency department.

"Uh yeah, I guess. But what about them?" Finn questioned gesturing to the door that his sisters had just gone through.

"It's just for the night. They'll stay with Emma and Mr. Schuester, I guess. I just need some time." Noah said shrugging.

"Really Noah?" Brittany questioned disdain dripping from her every word as she glared at him.

"Don't start, Brittany. You don't know anything that is going on." Noah growled and Brittany rolled her eyes.

"I know that you are running away rather than actually dealing with what is going on which is really stupid." Brittany told him and he glared at her.

"Shut up, Britt," Noah snapped, "It's just for the night! And then I'm there okay? I just need this one night! And it's not like I'm leaving right now. I'm gonna wait to make sure that Rach is okay and shit."

"Whatever, Noah." Brittany said dismissively after her mom had placed a hand on her arm in a clear indication to get her to stop arguing with Noah. Noah just huffed out a breath and slumped back in his chair, arms folded across his chest as he glared at the door in front of him, waiting for someone to come back and tell him something about Rachel or Blaine because he could already feel the anger seeping from his pores and the worry replacing it as the waiting room lapsed into silence once again. The worry was causing his muscles to tense and had his foot tapping on the floor as he stared up at the clock above them.

* * *

Santana hadn't stopped glaring at the solid wood door in front of her from where she sat on the exam table since she had been brought back. Her socked feet were swinging anxiously as she shifted uncomfortably the paper sheet covering the bed crinkling underneath her as she tugged the stupid gown they made her change into closer to her body. She didn't even really understand why she needed to be examined. She hadn't even been home when everything had happened, and she was _fine_. Well maybe she wasn't fine really but she would be a whole lot better if they let her finally see Blaine and Rachel, because it was stupid that she was sitting here in this stupid gown that covered nothing because they decided she needed to be examined her before she could see her brother and sister.

"Screw this." Santana grumbled under her breath as she hopped down from the exam table. Everyone had told her that she wouldn't be able to leave the hospital if she didn't have an exam but she was tired of waiting for them to finally come in and examine her. She didn't even need one anyways, all she needed was to see Blaine and Rachel, and she would be fine, the tightness in her chest would go away and she would stop feeling as if she wanted to crawl out of her own skin. She was just shimmying her sweatpants up her legs when she heard the door open behind her. She spun around quickly, nearly losing her balance in her haste. It was then that she remembered that the back of her gown was open, tied together loosely and that the scars that she knew were there were on display for the young female doctor who had just walked in.

The first thing Doctor Elizabeth Thomas saw when she walked into the room were the faded white scars that crisscrossed her young patient's back, visible in the gaps between the ties. Then she saw that the girl was currently in the process of redressing herself in a clear indication that she was trying to leave before being examined. Dr. Thomas sighed as she watched the young girl, Santana, tense and spin around to face her. It hadn't taken long after the two youngest children had been brought in by ambulance for the news to travel through the hospital that they were Dr. Berry's children. From there they had begun to piece the story together. Dr. Thomas hadn't known Dr. Berry. He had left the hospital for his own practice well before she had begun working there, although he did work at the hospital some days. That had been why she was assigned to do the exam on Santana.

"What are you doing?" Dr. Thomas asked the startled girl, one eyebrow raised in questioning as Santana once again began pulling up her pants.

"I need to see them." Santana demanded striding to the door but the doctor didn't move. Santana could already feel her pulse picking up with the anger that threatened to overtake her once again.

"You need to be examined, Santana." Dr. Thomas told Santana, her voice even and soothing but all it did was serve to further increase Santana's frustration.

"I don't need to be examined. I'm fine." Santana said through gritted teeth. Dr. Thomas just continued to look at her coolly, not responding to Santana's clear frustration, the two of them coming to a standstill eyes locked on each others.

"Santana, I understand you are upset and I can't force you to do anything but you know you can't leave the hospital until you have an exam and the sooner you allow me to examine you the sooner you will be able to see your brother and sister." Dr. Thomas said in an attempt to reason with the angry girl in front of her and was rewarded when Santana's posture relaxed slightly, her fists unclenching.

"Whatever." Santana said sighing in frustration before climbing back onto the exam table, shrugging when the doctor, Dr. Thomas, Santana read on her name tag asked if she was uncomfortable with the police asking questions while she was examining her. Santana just shook her head before a detective was led into the room, introducing himself as Detective Lowe.

"Santana, I need to talk to you about what happened tonight." Detective Lowe told her.

"What?" Santana breathed, mouth running dry as she shook her head vehemently, "I can't-I can't talk about that."

Santana slammed her eyes shut as she fought to keep her breathing under control and prevent the panic she could feel causing her heart rate to speed up and her skin to prickle uncomfortably from overwhelming her. She couldn't talk about what she found not when her stomach flipped as she remembered the smell of death that had clung to her house when she had walked in the front door and she had to draw in a deep breath through her nose to keep the contents of her stomach down. She could still feel the stickiness of the blood that had coated her hands and she looked down at her hands where she had begun to scrub at them unconsciously almost expecting to see them covered in her mother's blood once again, but all she saw was her own tan skin and bright red nail polish.

"Santana," She heard Detective Lowe say once again and she dragged her eyes from her hands to meet his kind eyes as he gave her a soft smile, and she just rolled her eyes, "I know that this is hard for you.."

"You don't know shit." Santana spat in response because he didn't know. He didn't know _anything. _He didn't know what it was like to have his clothes covered in blood, or the absolute terror that she felt when she was kneeling down next to the unmoving form of her mother. Her mother's skin was already becoming cold to the touch and everything had seemed so unnatural. And for a brief moment it seemed as if Santana was somewhere else. That those weren't her hands that were futilely trying to stop anymore blood from seeping from her mother's wounds, not realizing that the blood had stopped flowing because her mom's heart was no longer beating.

"You're right," Detective Lowe told her in an attempt to bring her attention back to him, "I don't know how hard this is for you but I need you to tell about what happened when you got home tonight."

"Where are my sisters and brother?" Santana asked her eyes darting frantically to the door,ignoring his previous statement. She couldn't be in this room anymore, not with this man who wanted her to tell him about things she would rather forget but couldn't get out of her head.

"They're being examined." Dr. Thomas reminded her. She had stopped her exam of Santana when she had noticed the girl becoming visibly upset, her heart rate and breathing becoming erratic, a sign of the beginning of a panic attack.

"I-I need to see them," Santana said frantically, "I-I can't be in here, I can't talk about this. I need to make sure they're okay." Santana could feel the panic washing over her, she was too hot, and they were too close and the room suddenly seemed too small and she couldn't breathe. She just wanted to be somewhere else, because she felt like she was still there, like she was on the floor of the living room, like she was running up the stairs screaming for Blaine and Rachel, panic and terror coursing through her veins.

"Santana." Dr. Thomas said crouching in front of the panicked girl, trying to meet Santana's eyes as the darted around the room frantically. She noticed the Santana's breath was hitching in her chest. Santana's eyes finally settling on hers when she called her name a second time.

"Please." Santana choked out around the lump that had lodged itself in her throat, tears springing to her eyes, "I need to see them, they-they were there and I-I wasn't fast enough and it was too late."

"They're safe, Santana. They're being taking care of, just like I am taking care of you, okay? And as soon as we are done here, I'll make sure you see them." Dr. Thomas reassured Santana.

"I don't know why any of this matters," Santana told the detective when he once again asked her what had happened when she got home that night, "Hiram killed her, and then killed himself, why does it matter what I saw or what I found? You already know what happened."

"Because we still need to know, it's a part of our investigation." Detective Lowe explained.

Santana began to recount her tale then, speaking in a cold, detached voice, almost as if she was pretending that she was talking about something that had happened to someone else, her eyes becoming glassy and faraway. She told them about coming home, about the stillness of the house, the eerie feeling that had come over her when she walked in the door. She told them about the blood on the floor and the glass and the suitcases thrown around the room. She told them how she had found her mother's crumpled form and how she had only been able to look at Hiram briefly and even then she had seen the way his skull seemed to cave in on one side and that so much blood covered his face that she hadn't been able to make out his features in the low light of the room. She told them about finding Blaine and Rachel on the floor of the closet, shuddering when she remembered the sound of Quinn's terrified scream, and how she had had to carry Rachel and blindfold Blaine to get them out of the house.

"Thank you, Santana." Detective Lowe said once she had finished giving him the details of that night, but she didn't respond or even acknowledge that he spoke, her mind clearly somewhere else as she stared in the distance at something that neither he nor Dr. Thomas could see. He exchanged a few brief words with Dr. Thomas, as she informed him of the scars she had seen briefly on Santana's back and that she would give him a full report once she finished her exam.

Santana sat stiff and unmoving throughout the rest of the exam. She allowed Dr. Thomas to manipulate her limp limbs as she gathered Santana's vitals. It wasn't until Dr. Thomas attempted to separate Santana's loosely tied gown in order to listen to Santana's breathing that the girl was taken from where ever she had retreated to in her mind as she attempted to pull away. Dr. Thomas did her best to reassure Santana that all she was going to do was listen to her breathing in order to get her to relax and so that she could see the scars that she had caught a brief glimpse of when she had walked in the room. She bit back a gasp when she saw the scars that crisscrossed Santana's back, a silvery white that stood out in stark contrast to her caramel colored skin tone. She could see that most of the scars had faded so that they were barely noticeable which meant that they were quite old but the pattern suggested that they were lash marks either from a switch or from some other implement. All she thought of as she stared at the young girl's back were the nurses whispering around the nurse's station about what a good doctor Hiram Berry had been, what a good man he had been but a good man wouldn't have killed his wife or clearly abused his children.

"Santana, I need to ask you about the marks on your back." Dr. Thomas told her when she was done listening to Santana's breathing and had retied her gown.

"No." Santana stated firmly, her breath hitching in her chest as she remembered the stinging pain of the belt as it cut into the soft flesh of her back, her posture stiffening instinctively.

She knew the marks on her own back were almost a mirror image of Rachel's but most of them were so old that they had begun to fade and she had almost forgotten they were even there until Dr. Thomas had parted her gown to listen to her breathing. They weren't nearly as bad as what she had seen on Rachel's back and she couldn't even remember the last time she had been punished by being whipped. Her most recent memories had been of Hiram slamming her into a wall hard enough to knock the breath from her lungs and send her to her knees, a kick to her abdomen following. She had a big mouth and didn't really know when to shut up, so most of her punishments were doled out in the heat of the moment, when Hiram was so frustrated that all he wanted to do was to get her to shut up even if that meant slapping her or shoving her or slamming her into walls.

"Santana, I need you to tell me how you got the scars on your back." Dr. Thomas repeated her request, sitting on the chair in front of Santana in an attempt to meet the girl's eyes, but Santana's gaze was fixed on the dingy white tile of the exam room floor. Santana could feel her frustration rising at the relentless questioning about something that didn't even matter anymore. She didn't care about the scars on her back, it's not like they hurt or even that she remembered they were there half the time, and it's not like anyone could do anything about it now anyways.

"Why does it matter? Why does any of this matter? He's dead." Santana bit out through clenched teeth, before biting her lower lip because she had given Dr. Thomas the answer she wanted.

"You can get dressed, Santana. I'm done." Dr. Thomas told Santana as she stood from the chair, reading Santana's body language. She saw the tenseness of Santana's posture, the way the muscle in her jaw was twitching involuntarily as she clenched and unclenched it. She knew that she wasn't going to get anymore information out of her but she did know from Santana's answer that it had been Hiram who had done that to her and he had probably been hurting her for quite sometime.

"So does that mean I can go see Blaine and Rachel now?" Santana asked, hopping off the exam table and walking over to her crumpled clothing on the chair in the corner of the room.

"I'll be right back, and I'll let you know." Dr. Thomas told Santana leaving the room. Santana turned and began to pull her clothing back on.

She wasn't going to wait for anyone to come back and tell her she could finally see Blaine and Rachel. She was tired of waiting, all she kept seeing were Blaine and Rachel curled up on the floor of the closet, Blaine sobbing and Rachel moaning in pain and she needed to know they were okay. Santana crept to the door and pulled it open slightly, peering around the door and down the hallway. She saw Dr. Thomas talking to Anna and Emma further down the corridor, but didn't see Quinn and wouldn't even know where to look for Blaine or Rachel. She waited until she was sure that the adults were no longer looking in her direction before slipping from the room, making sure to stay close to the wall in the hopes that they would not notice that she was wandering the hallways.

She had barely made it five steps away from the doorway when she heard a panicked cry followed by anguished sobbing, a cry that she recognized as Rachel's and it was coming from the opposite direction of where Santana was. Santana felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up as she spun on her heel, her heart already racing as she stalked down the hallway in the direction of the sounds of Rachel's cries, ignoring the concerned look on the adults' faces or them calling her name as she brushed past them.

* * *

The last thing Rachel could clearly remember was Noah. Noah holding her and whispering to her while she cried into his chest and then she was being laid back down, Noah pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of her head, before covering her with a scratchy blanket. Rachel had kept her eyes screwed shut, because every little movement or sound caused her head to ache even worse. She had never felt like this, like her head was going to explode and her stomach was flipping and twisting and all she could do was lay as still as possible and even though she was tired, she couldn't sleep because of the throbbing in her head.

She must have dozed off though because the next thing she remembered were loud booming voices coming from above her. When she opened her eyes, she saw that the room was too bright and too white and it caused a spike of pain through her head that nearly caused her to slam her eyes shut once again. She saw that she was surrounded by men in white coats and woman in bright blues and purples. She didn't know any of them or know where she was or how she got there and their voices were too loud, overlapping over each other as they asked her questions that she couldn't answer because her head hurt too bad and the lights they were shining in her eyes were too bright.

She felt her breath begin to pick up as she was seized by terror and panic. She wanted her mom or Santana and all she could do was lay there and sob while they asked her questions she couldn't answer. She tried to get away from them but there were hands on her arms, and her legs, and voices trying to soothe her to tell her she was safe and that she was at the hospital and that no one would hurt her. It was then that she heard Blaine from somewhere in the room, screaming her name and sobbing.

"Blaine! Blaine!" She cried hysterically, sobbing, once again fighting against the people holding her. She was sobbing for Santana or for her mom and Blaine was too loud so she pressed her hands over her ears to block out all the sound around her, tears falling down her cheeks as she glanced over and saw Blaine straining to get out of the arms of the nurse holding him before he went limp in her arms.

"Please, let me see my mom or Santana. Please." Rachel pleaded with the doctors and nurses through broken sobs, the fight draining from her as the tears ran down her cheeks but her head hurt too bad to keep her eyes open and to keep up fighting. Her body going limp as she flopped back onto the bed, "My head hurts."

"I know, sweetie," Rachel heard a disembodied voice say from above her, a gentle hand brushing hair away from her forehead, "But we are going to take good care of you okay?"

Rachel didn't respond, didn't nod her head or open her eyes, just laid there and let them manipulate her in the ways they needed to. She could still hear Blaine sniffling somewhere next to her and she wanted to say something to him but she couldn't find the words because thinking just made her head hurt more. It was easier to do that then wonder where her family was, or why she could remember Noah holding her but he wasn't here anymore. She didn't want to think about that anymore because all it did was make her heart pound in her chest, and her head spin because she didn't understand what was happening. She didn't know why she was at the hospital or why no one but Blaine was with her. She was trying to remember what happened before Noah was there and how she got here but everything was too fuzzy and she couldn't focus on any of the thoughts swirling in her mind.

She let out a whimper as she felt them moving her from the bed to the wheelchair and she heard Blaine screaming for her. She wanted to open her eyes and tell him something but her mouth wouldn't work and she didn't know where they were taking her. She was just _so_ tired and it wasn't long before the motion of the wheelchair was lulling her to sleep, all the noises around her fading away. She felt like she was drifting somewhere outside of herself only being brought back to reality every time she was jolted by the wheels hitting uneven patches on the floor. She vaguely registered that she was being lifted from the wheelchair and placed on a hard flat surface, the disembodied voices that surrounded her were talking to her now, telling her about some sort of scan and she doesn't know what that means or what they are even scanning but she doesn't really care as long as her head will stop hurting so she lays still when she is told to and is grateful that the room is much quieter and darker than where she was previously.

When she opens her eyes next everything is quieter and her head isn't hurting so bad and she doesn't feel like she is going to throw up every time she moves. The next things she realizes is that she is by herself. She is somewhere she doesn't recognize and she can't remember where anyone in her family is. She remembered Blaine being there, remembered him crying and screaming, but she doesn't know where he is now or where Santana is or Quinn or Noah. She doesn't want to be by herself anymore, she just wants someone to explain to her what is going on and why she is alone.

It doesn't take long for the tears to spring to her eyes as her heart starts to race and her chest starts to tighten as struggles to breathe, because she doesn't want to be in this room anymore and she wants to find Blaine and Santana or anyone that can explain to her what is going on. She is just shimmying down from the exam table she is laying on when the door opens and she comes face to face with a young male doctor with kind eyes. Rachel scrambled back onto the exam table when the doctor walked in, pulling her knees to her chest as she buried her face into them, her breath still coming in short panicked gasps as tears began to fall down her cheeks.

"Rachel, Rachel, you need to breathe." The doctor said his voice soft as he crouched down beside her, but she couldn't, it felt like every breath she was trying to pull in was getting stuck in her throat.

"I c-c-can't." Rachel wailed, her breath hitching in her chest as she tried to slow down her breathing, trying to make herself as small as possible as she curled tighter into herself, "I-I-I want.." She started but her words trailed off as she continued to struggle to breathe, her chest aching and heaving.

"Rachel, I need you to look at me," The doctor told her and she did as instructed her eyes wide and terrified, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked at him. She saw that he was holding some sort of mask in his hands. "I'm going to put this over your face, and I need you to take some deep breaths, it will help you breath."

Rachel nodded and allowed him to slip the mask over her head, the oxygen was cold as it hit her lips and nose, and she did as instructed taking deep breaths as her chest started loosening. "Now, Rachel, I know you are very scared and confused but my name is Dr. Miller and I promise I'm here to help you."

"Where is my brother?" Rachel asked her words muffled and garbled by the oxygen mask. She watched as Dr. Miller reached over and pulled it off of her face, and even though tears were still still running down her face, her chest was looser and her heart wasn't beating as hard, "My brother, where is my brother? He was with me and he was crying and I don't know where he went."

"Rachel, I need you to stay calm okay? I'm sure your brother is okay, he is probably getting checked out too." Dr. Miller assured her, noticing that her breathing was picking up once again and her voice was taking on a hysterical quality and he knew he needed to get her calm again.

"I-I want him," Rachel said her voice wavering with her tears. She needed to see Blaine, and she wanted Santana or her mom or someone she knew to explain what was going on and what happened to her mom or her dad and why they weren't here right now.

"We will find him in a minute but right now we need to finish checking you out." Dr. Miller soothed, and Rachel shook her head. She didn't want him to touch her, she didn't know him and he couldn't touch her, he couldn't see what her dad had done, her dad told her no one could ever know. She pushed herself back to the corner of the exam table, curling in on herself once again.

"I want my sister." She sobbed, her voice muffled by the fabric that brushed her knees. She heard the door open and turned her head seeing Blaine, red faced and sniffling running towards her and scrambling onto the cot beside her. Rachel allowed Blaine to throw his arms around her even though she winced slightly when he squeezed a little too tightly, causing the bruises on her back to throb.

"I was so scared, I didn't know where you were and I don't know where Santana is.." Rachel said breathlessly as Blaine released her, scrubbing at his face in attempt to erase the tears. Rachel looked around the room and saw that Blaine had been accompanied by a police officer and a nurse.

"Rachel, we really need to finish your exam now." Dr. Miller said. He had heard from the nurses who had changed her into a gown that she had very severe and extensive bruising on her back as well as what appeared to be strap marks, but she had struggled with them and they hadn't really had a chance to do a thorough examination.

"No." Rachel protested again, trying to push Dr. Miller away from her.

"Rachel, your brother is right here okay? Just hold his hand and I promise this will be over quickly." Dr. Miller told her soothingly, even as she continued to shake her head, mouthing no as Blaine took her hand in an attempt to calm her.

"It's okay, Rach, he's a doctor, he can help you." Blaine told her softly, and all she did was let out a sob, because it wasn't okay, because she knew what they would find and she knew she was going to be in so much trouble with her dad when he found out.

"I-I can't," Rachel sputtered, tears falling down her cheeks as her eyes locked with Blaine's, "Blaine, you know I can't, you know."

Blaine didn't respond and Rachel could feel Dr. Miller opening up the back of her gown and she couldn't stop herself from flinching slightly as she screwed her eyes shut. Dr. Miller was murmuring something about how he needed to listen to her breathing but she could barely make out his words through the sound of her heartbeat in her ears.

Rachel heard the door fly open, startling her and forcing her to raise her head. Rachel turned to the door and saw Santana storming into the room, causing Dr. Miller to pull away from her in order to face her sister. Rachel knew Santana was mad, she could tell from the way Santana's fists were clenched by her sides and her eyes were narrowed as she zeroed in on Dr. Miller. Rachel and Blaine both scooted back on the cot, fresh tears beginning to fall down her cheeks, her eyes wide as she watched the room devolve into chaos around her.

* * *

Santana stormed into the exam room that she had heard Rachel's crying coming from. Santana hadn't been able to focus on anything but the sound of Rachel's tears and pleas as she rushed down the hallway, all she could picture was Blaine and Rachel on the floor of their closet, sobbing in the dark, alone and terrified. She hadn't been there and she should have been but she was going to be there this time. Santana needed them to know that she was there and that she wasn't going anywhere.

All she saw when she entered the room was a doctor standing behind Rachel, and Rachel sobbing while she clung to Blaine's hand, her head lowered and every thought flew out of Santana's head as she rushed forward and confronted him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Santana spat at the doctor, clenching her fists at her sides as she faced him causing him to back up a few paces, "Don't touch her."

"Santana." She heard someone, probably Anna, say in warning behind her, but she didn't turn to face her, her eyes locked on the doctor. Her chest was heaving and her heart was pounding. She could barely hear Rachel or Blaine crying anymore as her focus remained on the doctor, cocking one eyebrow as she waited for him to make a move. He once again approached Rachel on the opposite side of the table from where Santana stood.

"I said leave her alone!" Santana shouted, her eyes settling on Rachel who was hunched over, still gripping Blaine's hand, as she sobbed. Santana rushed forward towards Rachel but her movement was stopped when she felt someone grab her elbow, holding her arm tightly.

"Let me go!" She shouted trying to pull her arm away before she spun around to face whoever was holding her arm so tightly, surprised when she saw that it was Emma.

"Santana. You need to calm down." Emma said her voice firm, as she dropped Santana's arm, ignoring the fact that her heart was racing as she took in the wild look in Santana's eyes and the anger that was simmering within them.

"Don't tell me to calm down and don't touch me!" Santana shouted at Emma, who managed not to flinch at the fury in Santana's voice, or the way her fists balled at her side, "I don't want him touching her! Rachel doesn't want him touching her! Didn't you hear her crying? Don't you know that he is scaring them?"

"Yes, Santana, I know she is crying. And of course they're scared, everything that happened tonight was very scary, but this isn't helping. You need to let the doctor do his job and make sure that they are okay. But in order for them to do that you need to calm down." Emma told Santana, who just scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"I'm _tired_ of staying calm! They need me, because no one is listening to them! Rachel is crying because she doesn't want the doctor examining her and no one is paying attention! It's not fair!" Santana exclaimed.

"Santana, no one is saying that they don't need you, because they do," Anna interjected, when she realized that Emma was making very little headway with Santana, "But they need you calm, and not like this. Look at them, Santana, look at how scared they are."

Santana turned to look at Blaine and Rachel who were both sobbing curled together on the cot like puppies seeking warmth. She could see the way they both seemed to be trembling slightly and how Rachel had her head buried in her knees, Blaine mimicking her posture, their hands clasped on the cot between them and Santana felt some of the anger leave her body, her posture slumping slightly.

"Fine." Santana sighed, "But I'm not leaving."

"Santana, the doctor needs to examine Rachel and the detectives need to talk to them and you can't be in here for that." Anna told her.

"Why not? I'll be quiet, I swear, but I _need _to be here. They need to know I'm here." Santana protested.

"They know you're here. I promise as soon as they are done being examined, I'll come get you. Emma and I will stay in here with them." Anna told her. Santana's mood was so erratic currently that Anna was afraid that she would prevent more of a barrier to the children being questioned and examined.

"Fine." Santana said as she spun on her heel and stormed out of the room.

Rachel lifted her head up as she heard the door open and close once again. Her head had started throbbing again and her eyes felt swollen and puffy from all the tears she had cried. She was glad that everything was quiet again and that Santana had stopped yelling. She had wanted to call out to Santana, she wanted Santana to hold her and comfort her but Santana had just been so mad and her voice was so loud that it just made her head hurt worse. But she wasn't scared of Santana like they thought she was. She was just sad that Santana was so angry and that her head hurt so bad. She blinked blearily as her eyes darted between the faces of the adults in the room, the two woman, the redhead who looked familiar and the other woman who she didn't recognize and the police officer that stood near the door.

"You're my mom's sister." Blaine said slightly awestruck, his eyes trained on the redheaded woman in front of them.

Rachel's brow furrowed as she studied the woman as well as she tried to remember her name. She knew her mom had a sister, she had heard her siblings talking about her before but Rachel didn't know if she had ever met her or she was too little to remember meeting her. But as she looked at her, Rachel could remember seeing pictures of her in with her siblings things.

"That's right. I'm your mom's sister, Emma." Emma explained to them and she could feel Anna's gaze on her and knew that the woman would have more questions about the children not knowing her name or who she was outside of the fact that she was their mom's sister. They had barely been one the last time she had actual had contact with them and since then she had only caught the odd glimpse of them here and there when they had been at the school watching their older siblings practice.

"Rachel, I need to finish your exam now." Dr. Miller told her, "Is that okay?"

Rachel nodded, biting her lip as tears pooled in her eyes once again. She didn't want to do this, she knew what would happen if her dad found out that she told, but Santana had been so mad about them examining her and she didn't want Santana to be mad anymore. She didn't want to be the reason that Santana was mad, so she would try not to cry while she let the doctor look at her.

She couldn't stop the few tears that dripped down her chin when she felt Dr. Miller's gentle hands opening the back of her gown, shame burning throughout her body because she didn't want any of these strangers to see what her dad had done and she knew it was her fault, she made him mad. She knew she was supposed to better, that she wasn't supposed to make him mad and that all the bruises on her back were her fault.

Emma watched as Rachel bowed her head nearly to her chest. She could see the silent tears dripping down her chin, darkening the fabric of the gown that covered her lap. Emma glanced up at Dr. Miller as she saw his posture change once he got her gown fully open in the back. He gestured with his head for Emma, Anna and the detective to come around the exam table.

Rachel couldn't help the sob that she choked out when she heard the sound of feet shuffling around the table. She didn't have to look up to know that all of the adults in the room were looking at the bruises on her back. She gripped Blaine's hand tighter in her own, fighting the wince when she felt the doctor touch one of the more tender marks on her back, her other hand gripping the fabric of the gown so tightly that her knuckles were turning white.

Emma fought the gasp that bubbled up in her throat as she took in the marks on Rachel's back, her heart seizing in her chest as tears flooded her eyes. She fought the wave of nausea that overcame her as she stared at the bruises that nearly covered the entire expanse of the small girl's back and the welts that overlapped the bruises in some places, angry red and broken open in some places. Emma swallowed the tears that wanted to spill as she realized the full extent of what had been happening to her nieces and nephews while she hadn't been there, but this wasn't about her and her failings, this was about Rachel and Blaine and the rest of them and how hard all of this was for them, so she swallowed both her tears and her nausea.

"Rachel, can you tell us who did this to you?" Rachel heard Dr. Miller ask, his voice gentle as he prodded her.

"N-n-no," Rachel stammered shaking her head, her voice thick with tears as fear caused her breathing to speed up, "I-I-I can't...I'm not...I'm not supposed to talk about it."

"Rachel," Anna said crouching in front of the little girl. Rachel looked up from her lap and met the woman's eyes, "You're safe here. No one here is going to hurt you, it's okay to tell us what happened."

"It was our dad." Blaine whispered from beside her.

"Blaine, no. We can't tell, you know we can't tell." Rachel reminded him, her voice shrill with the panic that was causing her heart to thud in her chest. She knew that if her dad found out, if _anyone_ knew that they could be taken away and they would be separated.

Blaine looked down at his lap as he pulled his hand out of Rachel's, his fingers once again finding their way into his mouth. He hadn't meant to make Rachel mad but they needed help, and the adults could help them. He had tried to get Rachel to tell adults in the past but she would never listened and he stopped trying because he knew if their dad found out she told anyone it would be worse for Rachel and maybe for him or their mom.

"Is that true Rachel? Did your dad do this to you?" Anna questioned gently and Rachel nodded, her gaze dropping to her lap once again.

"He-he can't know that I told you," Rachel said her voice barely above a whisper, "He-he can't. You have to promise you won't tell him, you-you can't. Is he here? Does he know we're here?"

Her words were coming out in a hurried rush. Everything was crashing down around her, all her secrets that she had tried to keep for so long weren't secrets any more and she was terrified of what that meant for her or her siblings, or what would happen when her dad found out that she had told and whether or not they would be separated like she had so often heard her older siblings talking about.

"Rachel, you need to breathe. We're just talking right now, and you're okay. Blaine is here with you and your sister is right outside and Emma is here as well. You're safe." Anna tried to reassure the little girl, who refused to meet her eyes as she sobbed, twisting her hands into the gown that covered her lap.

"I want Santana." Rachel sobbed weakly.

Anna sighed as she stood. She didn't really want to involve the older girl right now, she had already proven that she had a difficult time staying in control of her emotions but she needed to make sure that both Blaine and Rachel were comfortable enough to answer the questions that they were going to be asked. It also became apparent to her that even though they had been in the house when their parents died, they didn't know that their parents were dead.

It was only a few minutes later when Santana walked in and Rachel started sobbing in relief as Santana pulled her against her body, stroking her hair.

"They-they know." Rachel sobbed her voice muffled by the fabric of Santana's shirt, and Santana pulled away from her, crouching down so she could meet Rachel's eyes, putting her hand on Rachel's chin so that she was looking at her.

"I know you're scared, munchkin, but it's okay. You can tell them what happened." Santana soothed and Rachel nodded as she turned back to Anna, Santana sliding onto the cot in between the two of them. Rachel leaned into Santana's side and Blaine did the same on the opposite side.

"Can you tell us about what happened to your back?" Anna asked gently, and Rachel nodded, keeping her face burrowed into Santana's side even as she started to speak.

"My-my dad...I make him mad and he punishes me with his belt." Rachel explained her voice monotone as she respond, gripping tightly to Santana's shirt in order to keep herself calm.

"Blaine, does he hurt you?" Anna asked her attention turning to the little boy who was sucking on his fingers and watching her with wide concerned eyes. He just shook his head sadly.

"It's only me." Rachel whispered, her voice strained and full of sadness.

Anna's eyes roved over the three children sitting in front of her, Rachel with her sad eyes clinging to her big sister. Santana who had turned her face to the ceiling, her jaw set in a hard line but Anna could see a tear snake down her cheek and knew that she had turned away so that they wouldn't see her crying. Blaine's eyes were wide and fearful, his fingers firmly lodged in his mouth as he watched her warily. She glanced at Detective Lowe indicating that it was his turn to ask the children about what happened.

"Rachel, Blaine, my name is Detective Lowe and I need to ask you about what happened tonight." He told them, smiling widely in an attempt to calm them but instead watched as the color drained from their faces, Santana shifting uncomfortably.

Santana could feel her heart rate pick up, a cold sweat breaking out across her skin because she didn't know if she could do this, if she could listen to them tell the detective what happened before she had gotten home. Emma must have noticed that Santana was struggling because she was leaning down and whispering in Santana's ear that she didn't have to stay if she couldn't handle it. But Santana just shook her head defiantly, focusing her eyes on the wall behind the detective's head, as she drew in deep steadying breaths. Blaine and Rachel needed her and she couldn't fall apart right now.

"Rachel, can you tell me how you hurt your head?" He asked her.

"I-I-I..." Rachel stammered as she tried to remember, her mouth running dry as her mind went blank, fear causing her heart to speed up as she remembered the fury in her father's eyes, her mother's screams and then pain and darkness.

"I remember." Blaine spoke up as he pulled his fingers out of his mouth drying them on his shirt, "I can tell you what happened."

_Blaine knew his dad was mad the second he showed up at Brittany's house. He hadn't yelled or anything, but Blaine could tell just from the way he gripped his arm just a little tighter than normal as he led him and Rachel out to the car. He had tried to tell Santana that they shouldn't go to Brittanys. They had both tried to tell Santana that he would be mad if he found out that they weren't at home with their mom and now they were in the backseat of the silent SUV. Blaine looked over at his sister. He was almost afraid to move. His eyes settled on Rachel and saw that the color had drained from her face. He knew that it was because she knew that they were in trouble and he knew she was going to get the brunt of it. He waited until he was sure his dad wasn't looking before he reached for Rachel's hand. Her eyes wide and tear filled as she turned to look at him. _

"_Daddy," Rachel started, her voice wavering slightly as Blaine's eyes shot to her in surprise, "We're-we're really sorry." _

"_You know you are supposed to go home right after school, Rachel." Hiram scolded and even though he wasn't yelling at her. Blaine could hear the strain in his voice and see the way his eyes were flashing dangerously when he met Rachel's in the rearview mirror causing Blaine to shudder slightly._

"_I-I know, but.." _

"_You know better, Rachel. You both know better," Hiram interrupted, "You know the rules and so does that sister of yours."_

"_No, Daddy, it was..I wanted to go to Britt's..it wasn't Santana's idea." Rachel said her voice growing weaker by the end. _

_Blaine squeezed Rachel's hand tightly in an attempt to get her attention, because he didn't understand why Rachel would lie to their dad. They hadn't wanted to go to Brittany's house. It had been Santana's idea. However, when he opened his mouth to say just that, he felt Rachel's nails bite into the palm of his hands as she shook her head vehemently. He shot her a confused look but allowed the words to die on his lips. He knew that Rachel was going to be punished even if their dad knew that it had been Santana that had told them to go to Brittany's but maybe it wouldn't be as bad if his dad knew the truth. _

"_It doesn't matter, Rachel, you still knew the rules and you know what happens when you disobey the rules." Hiram reminded her. Blaine could hear Rachel swallow audibly beside him, her face growing paler if that was even possible as her hand went limp in his. _

_The car came to a stop then in front of their house and before either Blaine or Rachel could get out of the car, Hiram was coming around the car and pulling Rachel out roughly by her upper arm, hissing something in her ear that Blaine couldn't make out. _

_As Blaine scrambled out of the SUV behind them, he saw that his dad was now yanking Rachel by her arm to the front door, and that she was pleading with her dad to let her go, and telling him how sorry she was. Her pleas weren't much more than whispers because they were in the front yard and he knew that she was whispering because she knew that if anyone heard her it would be much worse. He hurried across the lawn quickly in an attempt to catch up to them. His dad shoved Rachel into the front door causing her to stumble slightly over a suitcase that hadn't been there this morning when they left for school. It was only Hiram's grip on Rachel's arm that prevented her from sprawling on the floor of the foyer, but Blaine saw something pass over his dad's face and he knew that his dad must have noticed the suitcase as well. _

"_Don't you dare move." Hiram spat at both Blaine and Rachel as he dropped Rachel's arm, before stalking away from them and up the stairs._

_It was then that Blaine noticed there was more than just one suitcase in the foyer of the house, he saw two duffel bags emblazoned with the McKinley logo sitting closer to the base of the stairs, but he didn't remember anyone saying anything about them going on a trip. He heard the sound of a door hitting a wall and then the screaming started and he instinctively moved closer to Rachel. He knew that they should run or hide or something because Santana had told him that's what they were supposed to do when the shouting started, but they were already in trouble and he didn't want Rachel's punishment to be worse. He knew that even if it was his idea, it would be Rachel who got punished for him, because she would just lie and tell him that it had been her idea. _

"_Blaine." Rachel whimpered from beside him, but before he could even do anything to comfort her, he could hear thudding steps from above them. He looked up, his eyes widening as he saw his dad pulling his mom down the stairs. His face red and his eyes enraged and all Blaine could do was back up further towards the door, trying to make himself as small as possible and put distance between his father and Rachel. _

"_What the fuck is this, Shelby?" Hiram shouted. _

_His booming voice startled Blaine. Blaine's heart raced as his dad shoved his mom hard enough that she was sent sprawling to the ground in front of them. Blaine felt Rachel jump beside him and he was barely able to keep from screaming as he watched his mom hit the ground in front of them. He reached for Rachel's hand and pulled her closer to the wall as they used Hiram's distraction to slink towards the den and away from the front door._

"_What does it look like you asshole?" Shelby spat, pushing herself onto her knees as she glared at their father. "I'm leaving you." _

_Blaine watched horrified as his father raised his hand, and struck his mother across the face, the sound echoing throughout the foyer. Blaine hadn't been able to keep himself from screaming then, as the first tears started pouring down his cheeks. He felt Rachel yank her hand out of his and before he could do anything or say anything she was rushing towards their parents, standing between them, her hands planted on her hips as she glared defiantly up at their father._

"_Rachel!" Blaine cried, reaching for her even though he knew she was way too far away for him to reach. His body was shaking with sobs as he stood paralyzed unable to do anything but watch in horror as his sister tried to protect their mother._

"_Stop it, Daddy!" Rachel shouted, her voice was fierce even though Blaine could see her hands shaking where she had them clenched at her sides. He wanted to clench his eyes shut and cover his ears, because he didn't want to watch this anymore. He didn't want to see his dad hit his mom or hurt his sister but he couldn't look away._

"_Rachel, no." Shelby gasped out, reaching for her daughter as she pushed herself to her feet, trying to pull the little girl behind her, but Rachel pulled her arm out of Shelby's grasp, continuing to glare at her father._

"_Rachel," Hiram hissed, leaning down so he was eye to eye with Rachel, "Move your ass or you are really gonna get it." _

"_No," Rachel told him chin jutting out defiantly, "Not until you leave her alone." _

_Blaine watched as his dad grabbed Rachel by her upper arms, pulling her close to him as she let out of a squeak of pain. Blaine saw that his mom had also reached for her but she was a second too slow, but that she had fisted one hand into the back of Rachel's shirt._

"_Let her go!" Shelby shouted at him, but Hiram's grip on Rachel didn't slacken and Blaine could see that Rachel was crying now, either from pain or fear and that the force of her tears were causing her whole body to shake. Shelby yanked backwards on Rachel's shirt in an attempt to break Hiram's grip on the little girl, but he just stumbled forward slightly as Rachel's cries increased in volume, straightening up as he faced Shelby, keeping one of Rachel's arms in his grasp, even as Rachel struggled to get away from him. _

"_You, shut the fuck up." Hiram told Shelby before turning to face Rachel once again, "And you, don't you ever fucking tell me what to do in my house." _

_Blaine looked on in horror as Hiram's hand connected with Rachel's face, her scream matching his own. Rachel was sobbing and Blaine could tell that the only thing that was keeping her upright was Hiram's grip on her arm. _

"_Don't fucking touch her!" Shelby shouted and then Blaine watched his mom do something he had never seen her do before, and she attempted to shove him away from Rachel. Blaine watched as his dad flung Rachel away from him as he straightened up to face his mother. Rachel stumbled backwards over the duffel bags at the base of the stairs, and lost her balance. Blaine heard a sickening thud as he watched her head hit the bottom stair and her body went limp. Blaine felt the front of his pants become damp as he stared in horror at his sister's motionless form. His heart was pounding in his chest and his chest heaving as his breathing became ragged while he waited for Rachel to start moving. His attention was pulled away from Rachel when he heard a crash in front of him and saw his mom fall over the table that stood in the foyer. Both her and the table crashing to the floor. The sound of glass shattering meeting his ears as the vase that stood on it fell to the hardwood and shattered. His mom's eyes met his briefly from where she laid curled on the floor. He could see blood dripping from her nose and that one of her eyes was swollen and bruised._

"_Blaine. Get Rachel up and go upstairs and hide! Now!" Shelby shouted and Blaine moved then rushing towards the stairs. _

_Rachel was moving now, one hand pressed to the back of her head as she blinked dazedly up at him. He could hear his dad and mom still shouting behind him but he wasn't listening to their words as he leaned down next to Rachel, pulling her to her feet._

"_Blaine, my head hurts." Rachel protested as he began to pull her up the stairs, missing a step and causing him to bang his knee on the stairs._

_"I know, Rachel, but we have to hide. Mom said we have to hide." Blaine said. He was trying to pull Rachel up the stairs as quickly as possible but she was stumbling and sluggish, but he could hear his mom's screams growing more panicked behind him and knew that they needed to hide before their dad came looking for them. He managed to get both of them into Quinn and Santana's closet, scrambling as far back as they could go before he dropped to the ground, Rachel mimicking his movements. _

"Blaine, Blaine." Blaine heard his name being called and it sounded like it was coming from faraway. He blinked quickly as everything came back into focus and he sawthe detective sitting in front of him with a concerned expression on his face. He could feel Santana's hand running through his hair in an attempt to soothe him.

"What else do you remember Blaine?" The detective prodded gently and Blaine just shrugged.

"I-I remember my mom screaming and-and then she was quiet and there was a loud bang like a firecracker or something and then Santana was there." He explained. He didn't remember seeing his mom or dad after that, just Santana and Noah and a bunch of doctors, "Where's my mom?"

Santana felt her heart drop into her stomach at the innocence of Blaine's question. She thought they knew, or that someone had told them what happened. She thought someone would have told them that their parents were dead.

"Sanny?" Rachel questioned pulling Santana from her thoughts, and she couldn't remember the last time that her sister had called her that, "Do you know where mom is?"

Santana looked down at Rachel. Rachel's eyes were wide and practically pleading with Santana to tell her what happened. Santana felt her mouth run dry, as it worked uselessly to form words that would never come, because she couldn't do this. She couldn't be the one to tell them what happened. She didn't know how, she didn't know how to explain to them that she had found their mom in the living room in a pool of her own blood and that Hiram had shot himself, not after listening to Blaine talk about what happened before she had gotten there. She couldn't do it knowing that if she had never asked her mom to leave she might still be alive or with the memory that for the first time in a long time her mother had stood up for her children.

"I-I can't, I'm-I'm sorry. " Santana stammered, unwinding herself from Blaine and Rachel's grasps as she slid off of the exam table, looking at them apologetically as she hurried from the room, their protests fading out as she shut the door behind her, not even realizing that Emma had followed her out of the room.

"Did-did something bad happen to her? To our mom?" Rachel asked as she watched Santana leave the room. She had seen the fear in Santana's eyes and the sadness there too. Rachel had never seen Santana scared like that. Santana had never run away from them so something bad had to have happened for Santana's face to have gotten that pale and for her eyes to be that sad.

"Yes, Rachel, something bad happened to her." Anna said struggling to find the words to explain this to the children, watching as they slid closer together holding hands once again. Blaine placed his fingers in his mouth, watching as the woman in front of them seemed to struggle with what she needed to tell them.

"Is-Is she dead?" Rachel questioned her tears starting to fall as she stared at Anna. She felt Blaine grip her hand tighter.

"Yes, Rachel, you're mom is dead."Anna said and could do nothing more than watch as their faces fell, tears pooling in their eyes.

"He did it didn't he?" Blaine asked, wiping at his eyes with his free hand, "That's why San made me wear her scarf over my eyes, because he-he k-killed her."

"Daddy did that?" Rachel questioned, all traces of tears gone from her eyes as the color drained from her face, and all Anna could do was nod in response, the door opening behind them as Emma slipped back into the room, coming to stand beside Blaine, "Is he-is he in jail?"

"No, he's not in jail. He's-he's dead." Anna explained.

"What?" Rachel whispered, her heart pounding in her chest as the room began to spin around her. How could both her parents be dead? And what was going to happen to them now? Santana and Noah weren't old enough to take care of them, "Did-did my mom do it?"

"No, Rachel, your mom didn't do it. He killed himself." Anna explained. Blaine flinched involuntarily as he remembered the loud bang that reverberated through the house and was barely muffled by his hands over his ears, and then the silence that followed and he knew that it hadn't been a firecracker.

"It was a gunshot." He whispered and everyone in the room turned to look at him, "The bang that I heard, it was a gunshot?"

His eyes darted between his aunt and Anna, and both woman could do little more than nod in response. Blaine squeezed his eyes shut, trying to erase the sound of the gunshot that wouldn't stop echoing through his head now, his stomach roiling as a cold sweat broke out over his body, he could hear Rachel talking next to him but he couldn't make out the words as he trembled with the force of the sobs that were now bursting from his chest as he doubled over. He felt someone rubbing his back gently trying to soothe him but he couldn't stop crying and he couldn't stop hearing the sound of his mom's screams and the gunshot over and over again in his head.

"Why did he do that?" Rachel questioned, watching her brother fall apart but she didn't know how to help him, and saw that Emma was rubbing his back, "Did he-was he sorry?"

"I don't know, Rachel, no one really knows why someone does something like that to themselves." Anna explained.

Rachel nodded, turning away from Anna as she studied Blaine's sobbing form, the sound of his sobs causing her own tears to start falling down her cheeks. Their mom had tried to help them, had tried to stop their dad from hurting them and now she was dead, and it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that their mom was dead and that their dad was dead and that she had died because she was trying to help them. The first wails broke through her pursed lips as she thought about the fact that they were alone now, that they didn't have anybody, and she would never even get to tell her mom how sorry she was, how if she had been better, maybe if she hadn't made her dad so mad that night, he wouldn't have hurt her mom and she would still be here.

* * *

Santana slammed the palm of her hand into the wall across the hall from the room she had just rushed out of, a jolt of pain shooting up her arm as she let out a cry of frustration before twisting to sit on the floor, running her hands through her hair in frustration as she pulled her knees to her chest, her elbows propped on them.

"Santana." Emma said crouching in front of Santana, making sure that nothing was touching the dirty floor of the hospital, cringing as she watched Santana sit on the floor.

"I-I couldn't do it," Santana said, her voice hollow and emotionless, "I couldn't tell them. I couldn't tell them that their parents are dead."

"It's okay, Santana. It's not your job to tell them, it's okay that you weren't able to tell them." Emma said, placing a hand on Santana's knee, but Santana brushed her off and Emma had to fight to stay upright, her heart stilling in her chest as she thought about falling on the dirty linoleum of the hospital.

"No, it's not," Santana spat, wiping at her eyes furiously, her dark eyes boring into Emma, "It's not okay. I'm their big sister, I'm supposed to take care of them and I couldn't even...I couldn't..."

Emma watched as tears spilled down Santana's cheeks once again. She heard Santana let out a growl of frustration as she swiped at her eyes, breathing in through her nose in an attempt to get her emotions under control. Emma knew that it must be frustrating for Santana to fall apart the way she was and in front of Emma as well. She had seen the girl at school, how she had seem almost invulnerable behind the carefully constructed walls she had built.

"Santana, it's okay to admit that you can't do something. Rachel and Blaine will understand, they'll understand that you couldn't tell them. It's okay." Emma said in an attempt to soothe Santana but all she did was scoff.

"Can you-can you go away?" Santana questioned, looking away from Emma, trying to blink back her tears.

She couldn't deal with Emma right now. Emma was being so nice and it was making it that much harder for Santana to shove her emotions aside and focus on Blaine and Rachel because they needed her right now and she couldn't get the tears to stop falling down her cheeks or shake the feeling that she was still in her house staring down at her mom's crumpled form, feeling the chill of her mom's skin under her hands as she pressed her fingers to her neck. She felt Emma squeeze her knee in comfort before she heard the squeak of Emma's shoes on the overly polished floor as she walked back into the exam room.

Santana didn't know how long she sat on the floor of the hospital, listening to the sound of people scurrying throughout the hallway as doctors and nurses and patients rushed in and out of exam rooms. Santana could feel the tension in her chest releasing the longer she sat there, tears no longer falling down her cheeks. It could have been five minutes or thirty minutes before she could hear the sound of Rachel and Blaine wailing over the sound of the commotion in the hospital corridor and it made her heart clench in her chest as she pushed herself off of the floor, rushing back into the exam room.

She saw Blaine hunched over on the exam table, his arms wrapped around his waist as he pressed his face into his knees, his entire body trembling with the force of his sobs. Santana saw that Emma had crouched down next to him and was rubbing his back and murmuring to him. She saw that Rachel had once again pulled her knees to her chest and was wailing as she rocked herself back and forth. Santana pushed past Anna in an attempt to get to Rachel, pulling the little girl into her arms. Rachel looked up at Santana, her face tear streaked as she threw her arms around Santana's neck clinging to her tightly as Santana sat with her on her lap, rocking her slightly. Rachel's sobs seemed so much different, more hopeless and broken, her entire body shuddering with them.

"Shh, little one, it's okay. You're okay." Santana murmured into Rachel's hair soothingly, forcing her own tears down passed the lump in her throat, but Rachel's tears just increased in volume.

"Sanny, what-what's going to happen to us? Who is going to take care of us?" Rachel questioned her words broken by the sobs that were consuming her and causing her to gasp for air.

"I'm going to take care of you, Rach and so is Emma. I know it's scary and I know you are sad but someone will always take care of you." Santana reassured Rachel, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, as Rachel nodded, burying her face in Santana's neck as she cried. Santana met Emma's eyes over the top of Rachel's head and was surprised to see tears sliding down her face as well as she did her best to comfort Blaine who had at some point thrown his arms around her waist and had his face buried in her shirt. She knew then that no matter how angry she was at Emma for abandoning them, or how long she had spent hating her and avoiding her, she had done the right thing in calling her. This was all too much and Santana couldn't have done this on her own, she couldn't have held them together and even if Emma didn't really know Blaine or Rachel and had absolutely no idea what she was doing, she was at least trying.

* * *

Santana didn't know how long she had sat holding Rachel against her until her tears had ceased and she was doing nothing more than gasping for air, her body trembling as she sniffled against Santana's neck, her eyes began to droop sleepily. Dr. Miller had come back then and explained that due to her concussion Rachel would need to stay overnight for observation and that they needed to move her onto the pediatric floor. She had hardly protested when Santana had slid out from underneath her, groaning softly as Santana assured her that Emma would stay with her, and Rachel had just nodded her eyes closing.

Blaine had protested being separated from Rachel, the tears that had just finished falling starting all over again as he sobbed, refusing to leave the room until Santana had picked him up, struggling slightly under his weight because while both he and Rachel were small for their age, Blaine was more solidly built and he was struggling in her arms which made it even more difficult. She had placed him down once they were in the hallway, hands on his shoulders as she reassured him that Rachel would be okay, that Emma was with her and Santana would also be with her that night. He had nodded, his fingers in his mouth as he wiped the tears from his cheeks with his other hand as he clung to Santana's pant leg as they walked back to the waiting room.

Santana had been surprised to see that Noah was still sitting in the waiting room along with everyone else who had come to the hospital with them. However, her heart dropped in her chest when she didn't see Quinn in the waiting room with everyone else. She stalked across the waiting room, practically dragging Blaine with her since he wouldn't release her pant leg.

"Where's Quinn?" Santana asked her voice shrill as her eyes darted around the waiting room frantically.

"She's in the chapel, San, she's okay." Brittany told Santana. Santana nodded taking a deep breath in order to get her breathing under control. She knelt down in front of Blaine trying to convince him to stay with Noah but all he did was shake his head and grip her pant leg tighter.

Santana found Quinn in the darkened chapel, the lights dim overhead as candles flickered on the alter at the front of chapel. Quinn was kneeling in between two of the pews near the front of the chapel, her forehead pressed to the wood of the pew in front of her, her hands clasped in her lap and Santana could see her lips moving in prayer but couldn't make out the words she was murmuring. Blaine detached himself from Santana as soon as he spotted Quinn running towards her. Santana watched as he threw his arms around her neck, hugging her tightly as she murmured to him, before he slid into the pew next to her, kneeling beside her and mimicking her posture, head bowed and hands folded, causing Santana to smile slightly.

Santana slid in the pew beside them, sitting on the hard wood as she shifted uncomfortably, staying silent as she observed both Quinn and Blaine praying. Santana had never understood Quinn's draw to religion or to prayer. Santana could remember going to church with her abuela on Christmas Eve and the odd Sunday mass when she was little and before her dad had left, but she and Noah had spent most of the service shifting uncomfortably in the wooden pews and their uncomfortable Sunday clothes, being swatted at by their abuela for not being able to sit still or for talking to loudly. Their grandmother, Emma and Shelby's mother, had also been devout and while she tried to teach both Noah and Santana about religion and God, and they had gone to church with her, it had never really stuck, they just went through the motions and eventually their grandmother got tired of scolding them and let them stay home on Sunday mornings.

Quinn had been different though. Santana could remember watching a five year old Quinn sitting with her grandmother as she read from the bible, her head on her grandmother's lap as her fingers ran through her Quinn's hair. Quinn had always been super quiet when they went to church with their grandmother, posture rigid and hands folded in her lap as she followed along with everything her grandmother did, glaring at both Noah and Santana when they were too loud during the service, she had even pinched Santana a couple of times to get her to be quiet. Quinn had stopped going to church when both Emma and their grandmother had stopped speaking to their mom, but she had never stopped praying. Santana had watched her sister kneel beside her bed head bowed and hands fold every night for as long she could remember

"Do you think He ever listens to you?" Santana asked Quinn, her voice a whisper as she stared at the framed portrait of Jesus that hung above the alter. She used to pray too. She would pray every time Hiram hit her or every time he crawled into bed with her. She would pray for him to stop, for her dad to come back, for her mom to get the strength to leave or for Quinn to stay asleep but none of those things had ever happened so one day she had just stopped, stopped praying for anything to get better because it never had. Her dad hadn't swept in and saved her, and her mom just became more and more distant and Santana knew she would never leave him.

Quinn just shrugged in response to Santana's question. She didn't want to have this argument with Santana, not tonight, not with everything that had happened or with her little brother pressed into her side. She was pretty sure Blaine wasn't actually praying, she could hear how even his breathing was becoming and how he had slumped against her side slightly, so she was almost positive that he had fallen asleep. Quinn smiled down at him slightly, remembering how Blaine could fall asleep pretty much anywhere and in any position. She remembered when he was much smaller, maybe 3 or 4 and would fall asleep standing up, his head pressed into the couch cushions. Quinn got to her feet, pulling Blaine up with her as he murmured sleepily in protest, sitting on the pew next to Santana, allowing Blaine to curl up onto the pew beside her, his head resting on Quinn's thigh as she ran her fingers through his tousled hair.

"Are they okay?" Quinn asked whispering as well, even though they were the only three people in the chapel at this hour it still felt weird to talk in anything above a whisper.

"I don't know, Q," Santana said shrugging, "Physically, Blaine is okay but he-he remembers everything that happened, he heard everything. Rachel has a concussion and she has to stay overnight but she'll be okay eventually. What about you?"

"I'm-I'm okay." Quinn said, looking away from her sister before her eyes deceived her. Because she wasn't okay, not at all, she couldn't stop seeing her mom laying on the floor in the living room, or forget the smell of copper and decay that had nearly overwhelmed her when she had walked into the house that night, but she couldn't tell Santana that, because Blaine and Rachel needed Santana more than she did, and because she could remember Santana's clothes covered in blood as Santana had emerged from the house with Rachel on her hip and Blaine blindfolded and cling to her hand.

"No, you're not," Santana stated and Quinn turned her head to look at Santana, "You don't have to be okay, Q."

"Are you?" Quinn asked Santana.

"No." Santana said swallowing roughly and shaking her head. Quinn couldn't help the look of surprise that passed over her features at Santana's answer. Santana hardly ever confided in Quinn and the times that Quinn would check on her after a particularly bad night, she had always been brushed off. However, Quinn could see how tired Santana was, and knew that Santana was most likely too tired to brush off Quinn's question.

"I-I was asking for forgiveness," Quinn told Santana, thinking about her earlier question. She saw Santana glance at her in confusion from the corner of her eye, "Sometimes, I used to wish for something to happen to them, for something to happen so we could be free of them, but I never wanted this. So I was asking Him to forgive me for having those thoughts."

"Quinn, that isn't why this happened. You aren't responsible for what happened, there is nothing to need forgiveness for." Santana told her, and Quinn just shook her head, the first tear falling down her cheek as she brushed it away, "She was leaving him Quinn, we were finally going to get away. I told her what he was doing to Rachel and she was actually going to leave him, but he caught her. That's what happened. You're thoughts had nothing to do with it."

"I can't stop seeing them, Santana. I can't stop seeing her laying like that and all the blood and I just..I just want to forget." Quinn said more tears trickling down her cheeks as she reached for Santana's hand gripping it so tightly that Santana winced. "I want Him to make me forget."

"I-I know, Q," Santana said swiping her thumb across the back of Quinn's hand in an attempt at comforting her, "I can't either. I keep feeling the blood on my hands and on my clothes even though I know it's not there. I didn't want you to see them Q, you weren't supposed to be there."

Quinn nodded and Santana could tell from the way Quinn's body was trembling against her that she was trying to contain the tears and the sobs that she wanted burst from her chest, and Santana turned pulling Quinn against her as she started to sob.

Quinn allowed Santana to hold her even though they weren't sisters who did stuff like that. They fought and they argued and Santana tried so hard to protect Quinn that sometimes it drove Quinn crazy. She felt safer with Santana, she felt like she could finally breathe and she wasn't on edge anymore. The exam had been horrible, and all she had wanted was for Santana or Noah or someone to be there, to hold her hand and tell her it would be okay. But instead she had sat shivering in the gown they had forced her into for the exam, thinking of being anywhere else than in the cold hospital room being asked questions that she didn't know how to answer or didn't want to answer. She had known that they had grown frustrated with her refusal to answer their questions, but she couldn't talk about it, she couldn't think about it without her entire body going cold as she forced herself not to vomit.

As soon as she had finished with the exam, she had completely bypassed the waiting room as she fled to the safety of the chapel, falling to her knees as the tears splashed down her cheeks, pressing her head into the cold wood of the pew in front of her as she begged and pleaded with God to help her forget, to bring her mom back, to forgive her for ever wishing in her darkest moments that Hiram would die or that her mom would, so that they could finally be free of him.

"Quinn, Santana, we need to talk to you girls about arrangements for tonight." They both turned at the sound of Emma's voice, nodding as Quinn pulled away from Santana, scrubbing at her face to erase the remnants of her tears as she roused Blaine, who protested sleepily but allowed himself to be led from the chapel with Quinn's hands on his shoulders as she steered him through the hallways. Santana couldn't help but chuckle as she watched Quinn steering Blaine through the hallways, his eyes fluttering as he tried to stay awake.

Blaine crawled into Quinn's lap as soon as they were seated in the waiting room, his head resting on her shoulder, his warm breath flowing across her collarbone as he drifted off to sleep once again, his hand finding his way back into his mouth. Santana sat beside her, glaring at Noah who was on the opposite side of the row of chairs. She was still angry at him for shutting her down earlier, for deciding that he couldn't deal with any of this but that she could.

"We need to talk about the sleeping arrangements for tonight. Rachel has to stay in the hospital overnight for observation and Emma's going to stay with her, which means we need to figure out where the rest of you are staying tonight." Anna explained to them.

"I'm going to Finn's." Noah told them as he glared at Emma and Will, who were sitting across from him.

"I'm staying here with Rachel." Santana told them, her tone of voice almost daring them to argue with her.

"Santana, I don't think-" Anna started.

"No. I _am _staying with Rachel. She _needs _me." Santana told them.

"What about us?" Quinn asked in a small voice, one that they were unused to hearing from Quinn. Quinn didn't know if she was asking more about where she and Blaine were sleeping for the night or about the fact that Rachel wasn't the only one who needed Santana.

"They can go back to our house with Will for the night." Emma told Anna.

"What?!" Santana exclaimed, "No they can't!"

"Santana," Anna sighed, "They need to stay somewhere for the night."

"Then they can stay here or Blaine can go with Noah and Quinn can stay here. But they aren't going home with him." Santana spat.

"Santana, Quinn and Blaine will be perfectly safe with Will for the night. You know him." Emma told her.

"I. Don't. Care. Quinn is not going with him." Santana said, arms crossed over her chest as she glared at everyone in the room.

"They can come home with us for the night." Ms. Pierce volunteered. She had known Santana since she was a child and knew how stubborn and strong willed the girl could be and that she would most likely not back down. She knew it was well after midnight by now and that poor Blaine was so tired that he could barely keep his eyes open even to walk to the waiting room.

Blaine woke up again when he was being shifted off of Quinn's lap, blinking sleepily as he looked around the waiting room once he was on his feet.

"What's going on, Quinn?" He said through a yawn, wavering on his feet slightly as she placed her hands on his shoulders to keep him from falling.

"We're going to go stay at Britt's for the night." Quinn explained to him.

"What? No. What about Rachel and Santana? Where are they going to stay?" Blaine asked his voice growing more shrill and more frantic with every question and Quinn knelt down in front of him, forcing him to make eye contact with him.

"Rachel is hurt, Blaine, so she has to stay here for the night and Santana is going to stay with her." Quinn explained to him and he just shook his head vehemently.

"Then I'm staying too. If Rachel is staying so am I." Blaine stated, crossing his arms over his chest as he stomped his foot and all Quinn could do was look helplessly at Santana, who took over kneeling in front of Blaine.

"Blaine, you can't stay, okay? I know you want to, but you can't. So you and Quinn are going to go to Britt's and get some sleep and before you know it, it'll be morning and we will come get you. It's just for a little while," Santana explained but he continued to shake his head in protest. Santana pulled him closer to her, cupping her hand around his ear as she whispered to him that she needed him to look after Quinn for her and take care of her. That seemed to do the trick as he nodded, allowing Santana to press a kiss to his forehead before she stood up facing Quinn.

"Keep an eye on him tonight, Q. And I'll see you tomorrow." Santana said to her and Quinn nodded as she took Blaine's hand following Mrs. Pierce out of the emergency room, Brittany throwing her arms around Santana squeezing her tightly and kissing her cheek before leaving. Santana turned just in time to see Noah standing in front of her.

"Santana." He started and she just shook her head, holding up one hand to cut him off.

"Not tonight, Noah, just...I can't right now. We can talk tomorrow." Santana said to him, and he nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to her head.

"Tell the midget I hope she feels better." He called as he walked out of the emergency room, and Santana smiled softly as she watched him leave.

* * *

The soft sound of whimpering filled the darkened room pulling Santana from sleep. Her eyes opening lazily as she struggled to get her bearings, struggling to remember where she was and why all she could smell was antiseptic and why her bed suddenly was so hard and her muscles were aching. The whimpering came again louder this time, panicked and Santana's eyes settled on Rachel's tiny form, thrashing on the bed in front of her, and everything from the previous night came rushing back. Santana pushed herself up from the chair that she was sleeping on, her muscles clearly protesting as she rushed to Rachel's side.

"Rachel." She hissed insistently near Rachel's ear, glancing back to see Emma still sleeping on the chair behind them, making sure to stay away from Rachel's flailing limbs, having learned her lesson after being whacked one too many times by Quinn or Rachel when waking them from a nightmare. Rachel's whimpers and mumbled words were increasing in volume, her limbs flailing erratically, her bangs sticking to her damp forehead. Santana said Rachel's name again louder this time, knowing she needed to wake her up, that Rachel had a concussion and all the flailing she was doing couldn't be good for her. Rachel's eyes flew open, her chest heaving as her heart pounded, her eyes darting around the room frantically before locking on Santana's.

Santana watched as Rachel's face crumpled as soon as her eyes locked with Santana's, the first sob bursting from her and Santana scrambled onto the bed, knowing that it was probably frowned upon but not caring as she pulled Rachel into her arms, cradling the little girl's trembling form to her chest as she sobbed, sifting her fingers through Rachel's hair and murmuring in an attempt to soothe her.

"He...he...he was there, San," Rachel said through broken sobs, her breathe hitching in her chest as she tried to control her breathing, "And he..there was blood...and mom was screaming...and Blaine...and he..he..was trying..to pull me out of the closet."

"Shh, Rach, I've got you," Santana soothed even as her own tears sprung to her eyes as she listened to her sister's stuttered words, and labored breathing, "Breathe, Rach, you're safe okay? It was just a dream."

"But-but-but..." Rachel stammered, pulling away from Santana slightly, sitting back on her knees and searching her sister's face. She could see the tears in Santana's eyes that she was trying to conceal by blinking furiously. Rachel's eyes searching the room as well, expecting to see her dad somewhere hidden in the shadows, the image of his maniacal eyes and blood covered clothing stuck in her head, and even though she knew it was a dream it had felt so real, her heart still hadn't stopped pounding and her chest was still constricting painfully, and her head hurt, the pain in her head throbbing to the beat of her heart.

"Rachel, no," Santana said, pushing herself into a sitting position, putting both hands on the sides of Rachel's face, forcing Rachel to look at her and to stop searching the room. Tears were still pouring down Rachel's face, her face pale and her nose red from her tears, "He isn't here, it's just you and me and Emma okay? You're safe here, munchkin, no one is going to hurt you. Do you understand?"

"But he hurt mommy!" Rachel wailed, falling against Santana once again, and this time Rachel's tears were silent, but Santana could feel the front of her shirt dampening where Rachel's face was pressed against her chest and Santana held her as tightly as she could, staying silent, unable to offer any words of reassurance to comfort her little sister, settling for just holding her tight and stroking her hair, hoping that that would be enough. Because their mother was dead and Hiram had killed her and there was no way to reassure Rachel about that, there were no words that would change any of that, that would bring their mother back or stop Hiram from killing her and even if her mother had been less of a mother in the last few years, she had still been their mother and she wasn't supposed to die, not like that, never like that.

"San," Rachel's tiny voice broke Santana out of her quickly spiraling thoughts, her tears had seemed to still and she was just sniffling slightly, "Why did he do it?"

"I-I don't know, munchkin." Santana stammered, because she didn't know how to explain any of what had happened to her little sister, because she hadn't been there, and because their mother had been trying to leave, she had finally decided to do something to protect them and she was dead because she had been trying to be their mother for the first time in years. Santana let out a breath she hadn't even realized she had been holding, when Rachel seemed to accept her answer and once again lapsed into silence punctuated but Rachel's sniffling.

"San, can you sing me the song?" Rachel asked, and Santana's heart froze in her chest, because she knew what song Rachel was talking about and she didn't know if she could sing that song, not when all she could hear was her mother whispering in her ear that she knew a song that could make everything better.

It had been the first time Santana had been really sick, she had been five or six at the time and she had had the flu, and after almost a day of Santana crying, her fever raging and her body aching, her mom had slid into bed with Santana in the middle of the night, hugging her close and brushing her hair away from Santana's feverish head, her voice gentle and soothing as she sang to Santana and even though Santana knew now that the song hadn't really made everything better, in that moment she could of sworn it did because for the first time in days she was able to forget how sick she was and all she could remember was falling asleep in her mother's arm, her mom's voice washing over her.

"Rach, I-" Santana said trailing off, wiping at her eyes and the tears she hadn't even realized had fallen while Rachel had been waiting for answer. Rachel had tilted her head and was looking at Santana expectantly and Santana nodded, remembering that her mom had taught Rachel the same song, had told her the same thing that she had told Santana.

Emma had woken up to the sound of singing, the song was familiar, she would be able to recognize it anywhere, the singing was slightly hushed, probably in an attempt to keep Emma from waking up and for a brief second in her disorientation, she saw Shelby sitting on the bed in front of her, she heard Shelby's voice and it was only after blinking furiously, remembering that her sister was dead and that she was in the hospital with her two nieces. In the dim light above the hospital bed she saw Santana laying on the hospital bed, Rachel resting against her, the dulcet tones of Santana's voice filling the silence of the hospital room and bringing tears to Emma's eyes, because watching Santana cradle Rachel against her, rocking her slightly and singing to her, reminded her so much of Shelby, made her _ache_ for her big sister.

_Five year old Emma pulled open the door to her big sister Shelby's room. Everything was so dark and the only light in the room was coming from the window across from her bed. Emma could just make out her eleven year old sister's form sprawled across the bed on her stomach, her blankets kicked to the bottom of the bed. Emma crept across the floor as silently as she could while avoiding the shoes and clothes that littered Shelby's floor._

"_Shelby." Emma hissed insistently, shaking Shelby's shoulder slightly, the only response she received was Shelby swatting at her, and groaning, so Emma continued to shake her._

"_Em, what are you doing?" Shelby groaned when her eyes opened finally, as she squinted at Emma._

"_I couldn't sleep." Emma whispered, which she guessed was kind of true. She had had a nightmare, she had been having them ever since the policemen showed up at their house and told them that her daddy was dead, and now every time she fell asleep she saw cars crashing into each other, the metal crumpling in on itself and her daddy was always in one of the cars. _

_When she had woken up tonight, her heart hammering in her chest as she told herself over and over again it wasn't real, she had tried to be a big girl and go back to sleep on her own, but the tree outside of her bedroom window kept casting eerie shadows on her walls and when the branch had scraped against the glass of her window, she had flown from her bed and into Shelby's room. She would normally go to her mom's room but her mom had been so sad since her daddy had died and sometimes when Emma talked to her all her mom could do was cry._

_Emma watched as Shelby stretched and yawned, rolling over and making room for Emma in her bed. Emma breathed a sigh of relief as she crawled into bed beside her sister, both of them laying side by side, their arms and legs brushing under the covers as they stared at the ceiling._

"_Did you have a bad dream?" Shelby asked her voice loud in the silence of her bedroom and all Emma did was shrug passively. She didn't want her sister to know she had been having bad dreams again, or that the tree outside had made weird shapes on her wall and scared her because she didn't want Shelby to tease her. _

"_Do you wanna talk about it?" Shelby asked through a yawn and Emma shook her head, because she just wanted to forget about the dream not talk about it._

"_Shelby," Emma asked, after they had lapsed into silence, scooting closer to her sister, who didn't protest just pulled Emma against her, "Can you sing me a song?"_

"_Sure," Shelby said, "I have the perfect song, we've been learning it for the assembly, but it'll make you feel better." Emma nodded, rolling so that her head was resting against Shelby's chest, she could feel every word as it rumbled through Shelby's chest, the honeyed sound of Shelby's singing voice washing over her. She could feel her eyelids growing heavy when Shelby got to the chorus of the song and knew she would be asleep before she could finish, but this time she knew when she fell asleep she would dream of jet planes and her father's hugs, and the way his whiskers tickled her cheek when he kissed her good night._

Emma watched as Santana held out the last few notes of the song before looking down at Rachel who was slumped on her chest, her soft even breathing filling the empty spaces in the room, and she knew Rachel had fallen back asleep. She watched as Santana tucked a strand of hair behind Rachel's ear before kissing her forehead gently and pulling the blanket over both of them. Emma felt her heart clench in her chest because Santana was so like her mother, like the woman Emma wanted to remember Shelby as, the big sister who had sang to her every night for two weeks after her father had died and she had had nightmares, or who had driven her to her first real school dance, or had come over with romantic comedies and gallons of ice cream the first time Emma had had her heart broken, even if Shelby was a mom then.

She wanted to remember Shelby as the mother who had been frantic the first time Noah had been placed in her arms terrified she would do something wrong, or the mother who had taught Santana to ride a bike, picking her up and brushing her off the first few times she had fallen, kissing her skinned knee but pushing her to get back on the bike. Her sister had been so much more than the last years of her life, but watching Santana hold Rachel that night, watching Santana interact with all of the children early that evening she couldn't help the anger she felt towards Shelby.

She knew that the reason Santana reminded her so much of Shelby was because Santana had had to be Shelby. She knew that it was Santana who had had to soothe nightmares and fevers, and help with homework. Even now as Santana's breathing evened out and her eyes closed, Emma could still see the tension in her limbs, the creases in her brow that shouldn't be there, because she was sixteen she shouldn't have had to be a mother yet. Emma stood up from her chair then switching the light off above the hospital bed, neither girl stirring when she adjusted the blankets over them, if anything Rachel clutched at Santana tighter as the room was blanketed in darkness once again.

**The song Santana sings to Rachel is "Leaving on a Jet Plane". Anyways love it, hate it, let me know. **


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